Expect the Unexpected, Manny's Story
by Alfonsina.d
Summary: This piece is a departure for me. Written from M. Ramos' POV. All characters are adults complete with bad language, sexual appetites, poor communication skills, etc. ** conclusion ** Red lamps - sorry about missing you in the acceptance speech. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

The standard disclaimers apply. I make nothing except the satisfaction of a little bit of fun and amusement.

Warning: This story has several adult themes, strong language, strong imagery, and sexual content. Characters are all adult, speak and act as adults and even make choices of their own free will.

A/N: While I enjoy both Morelli and Ranger, this is a MM story in every way. Ranger will be a minor player and while not injured in any way, Morelli is only mentioned briefly in the first chapter. This story is from Manny Ramos' point of view, how he sees things and how he interacts with the world.

**Expect the Unexpected 01  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

"Pay up, guys," I said to the small group at the Side Pocket Palace. The Side Pocket is a pool hall/dive on the wrong side of the tracks. What the guys from the office and I like about it is that no one ever bothers us when we come to blow off a little steam. The beer is cheap enough and some of the waitresses are my type, blonde and petite. I like the uniforms here too, short and tight; I've been told they only come in size small and extra small.

"It can't be true, Morelli was supposed to break up with her," Tank said. "By my calculations it should have been next month right before Christmas. And if there was enough drama involved in the split, I was going to be a rich man. I had plans for that money. Big plans."

"Tank, whenever you think you actually understand a woman, you are automatically wrong. Haven't I taught you anything?" I asked. I'd learned that lesson the hard way and tried to teach it to my friends and acquaintances. We shouldn't all have to learn the lesson the hard way.

He shrugged as he opened his wallet and counted out some bills.

"It's only a C note, right?" he asked. "I can swing that easy."

I pulled a card out of my wallet to verify the results of the pool.

Double if Stephanie Plum broke up with Joseph Morelli. The payoff was three to one if she did it in a public place. The money went up four times if it was done in a civil manner. I pointed to his name and the amount he'd initially put into the pool and I smiled. My lack of trust in women was finally going to serve me well, sometimes cynicism pays off.

I shook my head and pointed to a figure that he'd not only written but initialed was valid. I' do that whenever I make book on something, anything. It keeps things clean and easy when it is time to be paid; less arguments and back peddling.

Eventually after much belly aching, all five of the guys paid out, except for Lester. Don't get me wrong, I like Lester but I don't trust him. I never have, he reminds me of me about ten or fifteen years ago.

"Dude, I'm out of money," he said displaying a cavern devoid of bills inside his wallet. "Can I trade some numbers from my black book and we can call it even? I'll give you ten chicks who are sure things."

I shook my head slowly and said, "No, _dude_, not interested. I have no problem getting laid. Besides, most of the girls in your black book have been with me and they're _still_ in the Manuel Ramos book of lists complete with likes, talents and predilections. Those women aren't in my regular rotation because they couldn't keep up with me or weren't willing to be flexible. I shared their info with you which is how _you_ knew they'd be sure things."

"Oh yeah," he said trying to look sheepish. "Sure thing, God that's my favorite phrase."

It was mine, too. A sure thing, according to my own definition: no strings attached, no guilt involved, no commitment needed, a good time to be had willingly by all involved.

"Pay up, Lester, or I'll call half a dozen of them and tell them I'm from the health department and they need to go in for an exam. I'll tell them that they've been with someone who lives a life of risky behavior and they've now been exposed to some of that risk."

"Fuck. You wouldn't do something like that, would you?"

"Try me. I can think of several who will panic and discredit your mojo in under twenty minutes. You'll lose out on several more _sure things."_

"I'm sure there's got to be something you'd trade, or maybe you can wait a couple of days?"

"No. You knew the rules. You also took one hell of a risk. That was a lot of money to put on the table."

He shot me a look that he couldn't believe this was really happening to him. "I wasn't supposed to lose. I never lose."

"Well bright boy, you should know better than to bet against the house. Now, no debates, I'm in no mood. Got a credit card?"

He nodded.

"Then we're going to cash advance your card to pay down a small part of your debt."

We tapped out the max available on four of Lester's credit cards with a promise to do the same on the next business day.

It isn't like I'm a total ass. It's just that when I take a risk, I'm prepared for the consequences; good and bad. Long ago, I never considered how sour things could go, since I've learned my lesson I no longer plan on a positive experience.

~x~x~

It was the proverbial cold day in hell when it happened, the Friday after Thanksgiving to be exact. Stephanie Plum had finally cut all ties cords and connections with Joseph Morelli and she did it quietly and discretely in a public place. I would have given almost anything to have been a fly on the wall.

How do I know it's true? Easy. My cousin, Estaban, works at Rossini's and has for years. Lucky me, he was on duty when Stephanie showed up with the cop and he waited their table. Somehow Estaban has waited on her several times when she's been to Rossini's.

Coincidence? I think not.

Estaban sees Stephanie Plum as an actress in his own private novella. He doesn't know much about her, he doesn't need to. He's made up some fantastic stories all by himself. He could write scripts and sell them to Univision based on his perceptions, observations, and imagination. He'd make a fortune, too bad he isn't more motivated.

Evidently the cop thought that it was going to be a romantic dinner on all levels. Estaban heard Stephanie tell Morelli that she was making some changes; he'd like some and wouldn't appreciate others. He seemed to really like the sound of that until he heard that the changes didn't include him. Because Rossini's is considered a nice place, there was no damage to the china or the crystal; it might have been different somewhere private.

As a result of said cold day, I was afforded enough cash to buy myself a BMW R60/2 1961 to fix up, it probably needs twice its purchase price in parts and materials to be cherry again. Sure, I have a thing for classic motorcycles, but why not? They're classic for a reason.

The real reality of it is that you can only store and work on so many toys at a time. Right now I had BMW 1965 R 60/2 that set me back eight grand and 1979 Triumph Bonneville Special 750cc that needed work, but I'd had my heart set on getting a 1947 Indian Chief for a couple of years. Someday. Someday soon, I'll be able to afford the ride of my dreams; just one big pool to pay off and I'll be set for several months of fun.

To my way of thinking, nothing is as satisfying as working with my hands. Taking something that no one wants or respects and turning it into a masterpiece is incredibly fulfilling. There are no emotional outbursts on behalf of the machines, just my own. The whole process can be a profitable enterprise and there's nothing wrong with a little profit.

Where do I have my own version of fun? Years ago, I bought a small spread outside of Trenton. The point of having it was to have a place to house my projects and tools. By watching my bills, putting every dime into the place I could get my hands on, and an insurance settlement, I paid the place off in six years. Granted it needs a lot of work, but I didn't want to have a big payment hanging over my head every month forever. I'm a big believer in function over style.

It suits me to live on Rangeman property when I'm working, it's convenient even if it reminds me of living on a military base at times. But my playtime is my own and I spend it where I choose and with whom I choose. I try to spend as much time at my own place as possible during my off hours, it gives me a chance to reflect and escape from life and my own realities. It is my private haven and I keep it that way.

* * *

I hope that you find something to enjoy in the story despite the warnings at the begining.

thanks for reading and reviewing. Alf


	2. Chapter 2

The standard disclaimers apply, but someday ... nah, I'm not that lucky.

Warning: This story has several adult themes, strong language, strong imagery, and sexual content. Characters are all adult, speak and act as adults and even make choices of their own free will.

A/N: While I enjoy both Morelli and Ranger, this is a MM story in every way. Ranger will be a minor player and while not injured in any way, Morelli is only mentioned briefly in the first chapter. This story is from Manny Ramos' point of view, how he sees things and how he interacts with the world.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 02  
Manny's Story  
by Alf.**

I really hate to witness accidents especially when they happen during rush hour. That said, I'd rather witness one than be a party to it. The beige new model Lincoln Town Car came from nowhere and t-boned a 1950s vintage Buick. I immediately recognized the Buick as belonging to none other than Stephanie Plum. The smoke in the air, liquids on the ground, and broken glass all boded badly for at least one insurance company and probably both of the drivers.

Zero and I exited our SUV to make sure Stephanie was all right. Then I called into the Control Room to let them know there'd been an accident and that she was involved. After I disconnected, I called 911. I'm sure it was already reported, but it's good form to let the authorities know about these things.

The driver's side door to the Buick was crushed and it didn't look like it would open easily from the inside. The driver staggered out of the passenger's door and headed toward the sedan.

"Are you OK?" she asked as the middle-aged woman, who was coiffed to within an inch of her life, exited her vehicle.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. I didn't see you," the woman said examining at the damage she'd inflicted on the other car and its driver.

"How can you miss an ancient, powder blue Buick?" Stephanie asked. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was sounding somewhat resigned to having yet another incident.

"I was talking to my husband on the phone about what he wanted for dinner. He's going to kill me, this is the third time this year," the woman said. The panic and hysteria were rising in her voice.

"My insurance company will probably cancel me when I submit this claim," Steph said looking over the car. "I am impressed though, no one has ever hurt Big Blue before."

Zero and I remained in the background until the police and EMS had come to make sure she didn't need to go to the hospital. The drivers exchanged insurance and other vital information and witnesses were collected for the official report. It was very efficient with a distinct lack of Joseph Morelli; I'm sure he'd been called but since the breakup he didn't go out of his way to show up if a situation could be attributed to Stephanie. Rumor had it he even avoided the precinct if he thought she'd be there for any reason.

"Stephanie, do you want us to drop you home?" Zero asked. "I know the car looks like it's still drivable, but you really shouldn't be driving right now."

She was pumped on adrenaline and you could just tell that she wasn't really hearing or seeing what was going on around her.

"Manny can drive your car back to your apartment or to the garage," he offered. "Whatever you want. Or we can wait with you for Ranger to show up."

"I don't want to wait for him," she said quietly. "Did you guys see the accident? I'm just fine, just a little shaken."

"You aren't at the office much anymore."

"I'm full time with Vinnie again," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. She turned to face me and asked, "You wouldn't mind dropping me off? My dad and I can deal with the garage tomorrow."

"No problem. The SUV will be more comfortable for you anyway. I'll meet you back at your apartment," I said.

"Great."

It was a quiet drive back to her apartment. When any vehicle is in an accident I keep the radio off and listen for signs that the engine might be compromised or there might be some other problem with the car. In this case, it all sounded OK, but it would probably need more than a little cosmetic work. At the very least the frame should be checked out.

I met them in the parking lot.

"Thanks for the ride," she said as she exited the SUV.

I looked at Zero and knew he'd call Ranger as soon as I was out of sight.

"My mother raised me to be a gentleman, let me walk you up," I said.

She was about to argue with me but must have realized it was a battle she wasn't going to win. I followed her up to the elevator. It's only one flight up but when your body's been jarred, it's one more thing for your body to deal with.

I did the rudimentary check on her apartment, everything looked normal and definitely lived in. OK, considering the fact that a laundry basket had exploded all over the living room floor and there were dirty dishes in the sink, things looked pretty normal. The girl isn't a neat freak and definitely wasn't ready for a white glove inspection any time soon.

"Do you need me to bring you something for dinner?" I asked. Her alabaster skin looked paler than normal. Accidents have a way of doing that to you.

"I'm fine. I'll make myself soup and crackers for dinner after I take a hot shower."

"Don't forget about the Motrin or whatever you do for aches and pains," I said as I headed for the door.

She walked to her cookie jar and opened it. "I'd take something if I had it. I'll be fine."

"Let me get you a bottle from the first aid kit in the truck. I'll be right back."

Before she could protest, I was down the stairs and out the lobby. Zero had the rig fired up to get back on the job.

"I need the Motrin," I said reaching behind the passenger seat for the first aid kit.

"Got cramps?" he asked. I slapped the back of his head, he deserved it.

"For Stephanie. She doesn't keep much of anything on hand in that place. She'd going to hurt like a son of a bitch come morning unless she gets some pain relievers now."

"Do it. I'll wait here," he said rubbing the back of his head. "Quit slapping me on the back of the head, it's annoying."

"Then quit being annoying and I won't do it anymore."

She was asleep on the sofa when I returned, I hadn't been gone five minutes. She must have used all of her adrenaline and folded. I didn't want to leave without making sure it wasn't a concussion.

I went to her kitchen, found a glass and filled it with water from the tap.

"Steph, take these and then you can go back to sleep," I said gently shaking her shoulder.

She opened her eyes, took the offered pills and water.

"Thanks to both of you for dropping me off. I appreciate it."

"Hey, you know sometimes it takes a couple of days after an accident before you feel like you've just been hit by a car. Let me know if you need help and we'll work something out."

She nodded at me and closed her eyes again.

"Got to get back to work. I'll see you around, Steph," I said as I headed out the door.

~x~x~

"Took you long enough," Zero said. "We're on a schedule, and we're thirty minutes late right now."

"Yeah, I know but the Hanson sisters can wait. When I went back into her apartment she was asleep. I wanted to make sure it wasn't a concussion before I left. Last thing either of us need is Ranger going nuts because she didn't take any medical assistance."

"What's going on with those two anyway?"

"Who knows? It's none of my business, what I don't know about I can't worry about."

"Ignorance is bliss?"

"When it comes to office politics it sure can be." At least ignorance was bliss unless you can make book on whatever was happening; I still had a couple of weeks before any more pools closed.

I pulled out my cell phone and called Bobby.

"Bob, you might want to check on Stephanie Plum in a couple of days. She was in a fender bender today." Pause. "Whatever, just covering my ass, man."

* * *

A/N: thank you as always for reading and reviewing! Manny will be getting more interesting, I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

Standard disclaimers: No money, no glory, just taking a new Merry Man out for a spin.

Thanks to the real chiropractor who inspired this section; you know who loves you, baby. Tiina, thanks for letting the plot bunny out to play ... who would have thought it could lead to all of this?

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 03  
Manny's Story  
by Alf.**

I really didn't think that Stephanie was going to call to have me help her out after her accident. I mean, people make those offers all the time and no one ever acts on them. She took me at my word; it's been years since any woman took me at my word, other than for sex that is. Then again, I rarely offer women anything but sex; I like to keep my life free of entanglements.

"Manny, were you serious?" That was how she started the conversation late on Thursday afternoon.

"About taking you to the doctor's? Are you OK?"

"My back's killing me and my neck is sore."

"Do you have an appointment yet?"

"Yeah, it's weird, but the woman who hit me called. Her husband is a chiropractor in Newark. She said he'd treat me for free as long as I need it provided I don't sue."

"Doesn't sound smart, Steph."

"Yeah, but I've got a small budget and I really hurt. It's at the end of the day tomorrow and I'll buy you dinner."

"I've already got late dinner plans, but sure, I'll take you."

We negotiated a time and I picked her up at her place. She looked awful and was walking like she needed assistance. She got hit harder than I realized, sometimes old Detroit Iron is great, but it doesn't always keep you safe.

"Did you at least check this guy out?" I asked as we walked back toward my truck.

"Yeah, Connie's friend heard of him. He's supposed to be a one hit wonder, go once and never need another chiropractor. ever. He totally rocked Franny's world; she said she could be a junkie and she's never been in an accident. Besides, this'll be faster and easier than seeing someone in Trenton and there'll be less to explain. When I talked to him on the phone he said once a week, maybe. And then probably for no more than a month or so, depending on how quickly I heal."

~x~x~

I double checked the address a couple of times and then I called information to make sure that we were in the right place. The building was actually located on a residential street, nothing special except that it was pink. Who paints their house pink anyway? This wasn't a light, subtle pink, this was the color of fresh bubblegum. Maybe he was using the color as a billboard of sorts or maybe he was colorblind.

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked her.

"Yeah. I'll do almost anything to feel better. Even though the idea of bone crackers scares the hell out of me, I'm gonna suck it up and go inside. You can either stay in the car or you can come in with me. I've just never done this before and I'm a little nervous about doing it."

"It'll be fine. It might be uncomfortable at first, but it'll be better than what you're living with right now," I said grabbing a couple of files to work on while she was being adjusted.

The front door had a little sign by the doorbell that said, "Ring once, come in and get comfy. Someone will be with you shortly."

I rang the bell and heard the chimes toll "When the Saints Come Marching In" and thought at least he's got a sense of humor. I walked in and settled myself on the sofa, Steph sat in a recliner.

"Be with you soon. If you need to use the john, help yourself; it's just down the hall," said a voice.

"No thanks, I'm fine," Stephanie said to the disembodied voice.

The woman who'd caused the accident came from behind a closed door and said, "Let me take a look at you. You don't look as bad as I thought you might."

Before Stephanie could answer the male voice intruded, "Woman, for the love of all that's holy, let her make her own decisions about how she feels. You try to influence everyone who comes in here. Because of that more than half of them leave before I can help them."

The body that went with the voice materialized. I don't know what I had initially expected except that this wasn't it, not at all. He had shaggy, salt and pepper hair pulled into a ponytail, probably late 50s early 60s. The beefy man meandering down the hall was clad in cargo shorts, a silk Hawaiian shirt and a pair of those rubber clogs.

"Follow me, we need to talk before we get started." It wasn't an order or a command, it was a statement made by someone who was very much in control. "Are you with her?"

I nodded.

"You may as well hear the speech, I'm only going to do this once and she won't remember it after we're done."

We followed him to a room that had a desk and a couple of chairs. The wall was covered with diplomas and certificates. I wanted to examine them but felt like that was too voyeuristic. Then again, why would he have them up if he wasn't proud of them?

"So, my wife hit your car. One of these days I'm going to finish fixing up the school bus I've been restoring for her and paint it day-glo orange. At least if she drives something that big, people will see it and have a chance to get out of her way."

Steph nodded at him and tried to keep up with the conversation.

"Before we continue," he said, "we have to discuss how you feel about pain."

"I hate pain," she said. "That's why I'm here. I hurt."

It must have looked like she was going to elaborate and he wasn't about to let that happen, not now anyway.

"I'll need to adjust your attitude or we can't work together. You have to see pain from _my point of view._" His tone was commanding and chastened her quickly. "Pain, my dear, is neutral. Pain is neither good nor bad. Pain is telling your body something very specific. Usually it is telling your body that something extreme is happening, something that is outside of your normal day-to-day life. The cause might be negative, but the actual effect, the pain, is neutral. Do not confuse the cause with the effect; it is a common and unfortunate mistake."

I nodded, it was my own perspective on pain and probably more eloquently described than I've done when I've felt out new women to date. He continued for several minutes on the benefits of pain, acknowledging it, living with it and even enjoying it. At some point I noticed that Steph was ignoring him, at least she was still awake.

"I think we can work together. You do know that I have only a very select few people I work with," he said with a twinkle and winking at me.

It looked like the lecture was over so I did the only appropriate thing I could think of, I nodded. "Can I go back to the waiting room? I don't think you'll need me."

When he agreed, Stephanie looked like she had just been dropped off on her first day of kindergarten.

"Steph, if you need me, just scream. I'll be outside."

"Oh, she'll scream and she'll like it," the chiropractor said closing the door behind me.

"Can I just go home, doctor ..." I heard her say from behind the closed door.

"I don't like being called _doctor_, I never have. I really thought you'd get that about me. Just call me Joe. It's easier on everybody. If you must use doctor, call me Doctor Feel-good. But I really think Joe is better, it's less for you to scream when the release work starts. You are a screamer, aren't you?"

"What's the alternative to being a screamer?" she asked.

"A moaner of course. Now we'll need to loosen your clothes, get you on the table and have you close your eyes. This is going to be fun."

That was the last of any conversation I heard. I heard the sound of the table collapsing, some screaming and then the moaning. God damn the moaning. It was the kind of moaning that I considered worthy praise for the job I was doing when I was with a woman. Now I was hearing it and not only did it have nothing to do with my performance, it had nothing to do with me. Despite all of this, I was developing a case of blue balls. I should have elected to wait in the truck. If I have to come back again, I'm going to have to get laid right before her appointment or I'll have to have a date for right afterward.

I heard occasional snippets of things that left me turned on and disturbed.

"_Right there?" _he asked_. "It feels incredibly tense."_

She moaned and it was long and seductive. Christ.

There was no conversation for a while and then suddenly I heardhim ask,_ "Are you OK? Can I make it harder or deeper the next time?"_

There was no response, maybe he's really hurt her.

"_I'll take that as a yes."_

Several more long moments passed and then I heard him again. I was really hating his voice about now.

"_Is that enough?" _he asked_._

"_More. I need more and it doesn't feel like it was hard enough or deep enough."_

"_Relax, hard and deep are my specialties."_

Another moan. Didn't I just get my pipes cleaned last night? It feels like I've been without for weeks. There's no way I'll let anyone else take her here, the other guys would try to jump her as soon as they got her out of the building.

Stephanie Plum is not now, nor has she ever been my type. She's too much the good girl, too perky and too upbeat most of the time. Besides, she's a brunette. I prefer blondes, natural and otherwise. The other strike against her, curly hair. I don't go in for the Shirley Temple corkscrew look on anyone; I like long, sleek, shiny hair. Despite her not being my type, I wasn't looking forward to hearing her either scream or moan. Certain kinds of moaning made my dick hard enough that it could drill for oil.

When the door opened, the _doctor_ looked pleased with himself and Stephanie was sprawled out on the table. She looked like she was either drunk or had been drugged. She was making little sighs and giggling.

"What the hell did you do to her?" I asked. "You were supposed to make her feel better, not alter her reality."

"Her reality sucks right now because she hurts. You could say she's in a better place for the moment, probably a couple of hours, maybe all night. All I really did was release some endorphins. That's why you're here. Until she gets used to the endorphin rush from me, she probably won't be able to drive safely; most _virgins can't_. It can take a long time before someone is capable of driving after we start _working_ together."

_Virgins? Definitely now is a good time to leave. I've got to see if Wanda is available tonight. If not, I'll have to run through the usual suspects and see if anyone is available to play._

"Sweetheart, I need for you to close your eyes for a while. You will be sore enough tomorrow and I want you to be able to walk without crying tomorrow," he said stroking her hair.

He looked at me and said, "You know, I'll let you decide if and when you want to come back. I never force people to return, it has to be voluntary. But I can tell there is a lot of work that needs to be done."

"Why don't we just schedule it now?" I asked a bit tersely. I couldn't wait to get out of here and release some of my own pressure.

We scheduled the same time for the next three Fridays. If I had enough notice, I could work out the scheduling with Caesar. How long would she really need to come anyway? I couldn't put my finger on it, but I just didn't trust this guy, not a bit.

"You OK, Steph?" I asked as I came up to the table.

The chiropractor looked at me and said, "Sweetheart, I need to make sure you're back with me. You know him, right?"

"Ssssssuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrre he's my sometimes husband," she said in a quiet voice. "Sometimes."

The 'sometimes' came out in whisper both times. What the f? Yeah, over a year ago when I'd been shot, she'd pretended to be my wife before I went into surgery so she could report on my progress and get some much needed intel to Rangeman. There's no way she could be thinking about that now. What was going on inside of that head of hers? Did anything go on inside of her head?

The doctor looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I get so excited about what I'm going to do I don't remember the pleasantries. I'm Joseph Lipari, call me Joe."

I put out my hand and said, "Manuel Ramos and obviously you've met Stephanie."

"Evidently you two haven't been married long," he said with a smile.

"You could say it hasn't been long," I said. Maybe if he actually thought I was the husband he'd back off a little and the next time she came she wouldn't be moaning so much.

"She'll need a lot of water, a hot bath and bed. _Alone_. If she doesn't get enough water, she'll be extremely sore and cranky when she starts to come out of this. Don't let her drive for several hours," Joe said. "Now, you, I forgot to ask if you bruise easily."

She nodded at him. "Course I do."

"Shit," I said. "Is there something you need to tell me about?"

"Sometimes I leave a mark. It isn't intentional and the bruises usually heal quickly. But you may see marks where my fingers have been on her back and hips. I don't want you to go postal if you see any marks on her; some husbands get resentful. And you look like you could be the jealous type."

"Not a problem," I said. Not a problem because 1) I've never seen her naked and probably never will, 2) she's not the wife, 3) if I really needed to take him out for hurting her, I could pretty easily. "You ready to go Steph.?"

She tried to get off the table and almost fell off. "Can you help me walk?" she asked staggering over toward me.

"Sure," I said putting my arm over her shoulder to stabilize her. "We'll see you the time next week?" I asked Lipari.

"Absolutely."

* * *

A/N: Thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... Manny is a horse of a different color, but you knew that. Also the phrase 'wife' will come back to bite them both in the rump in future chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimers: Making nothing, but having a good time playing with Manny.

A/N: Manny doesn't do committed relationships, he does the flavor of the week. Minor Manny smut about 1/3 through, with the flavor of the week.

Warning: You won't be seeing the softer side of Ranger in this chapter; he appears twice but never directly. Second hand conversation with Stephanie puts him in less than spectacular lighting. Use of bad/offenisve language on the part of Stephanie.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 04  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

During the next visit, things were less tense between the chiropractor and me. He and I joked a little while she recovered from her most recent experience on his table. I finally read some of the certificates on his wall.

"Demolitions expert? Navy? Impressive." I asked reading one of the many framed commendations.

"Long ago, you were probably in grade school when I was in service," Joe said.

"Maybe."

"Some experiences stay with you a long time after they're over."

"True."

"What about you?" he asked.

"I was Army long ago and far away. Never did specialized ops, just kept my nose clean so I could get the service to pay for my schooling." I didn't bother to say I'd been in for twelve years and did college during my stint; it was no one's business but my own.

He nodded at me.

"What does she do?"

"She freelances, most of the time."

"I heard she had a great car. Sorry about what my wife did to hers."

"Shit happens. She never really loved it anyway. I don't go for old cars, I like classic bikes. I restore them in my free time." Let's just take the emphasis off the car, something I don't know shit about and refocus on something else, anything else.

"Harleys?"

"I prefer Indians, but I've got a couple of BMWs going on right now. I'm hoping to get them sold so I can start the next project."

"Do you have a big following?"

"It's mostly a hobby that pays for itself. I've done some commissions though. I'd like to expand in the future."

"I've got some friends who look for vintage bikes as investments. You might be able to make a couple of bucks and buy her a ring."

_Ring?_

"Neither of you have a wedding ring. It wasn't so common in my day for men to wear them, but women seem to want rings."

Perfect. I forgot that he thought I was the husband. Husband is not a title I'm looking to reclaim anytime soon with any woman.

"Rings are a hassle when you work with machinery. I don't want to get hung up on anything. And _she_ loses things."

He nodded. "Expensive habit when they lose things, even if they are insured."

"Yeah, what are you gonna do?" Can we just end this conversation?

He laughed and nodded. "Sleeping Beauty, it's time for you to go home with Prince Charming now."

"Come on, Nieves, let's go," I said helping her off the table.

She shook her head and tried to focus her eyes, it wasn't working very well. "My name isn't Nieves, it's Stephanie. Who or what is Nieves?"

"Nieves means snow. You look like Blanca Nieves, Snow White, when you're asleep like that. Come on, I need to get you home."

She rolled her eyes at me.

"New nickname?" Joe asked me.

"You could say that everything with Stephanie is new."

~x~x~

I met the guys two days before Valentine's day at the Tease Me Once Strip Club. They were celebrating a good takedown and I was there to admire the scenery, there was a new featured dancer, a former gymnast.

"No way," Caesar said.

"Way," I said.

"Seriously?" Cal asked.

"Yeah, she is seriously double jointed," I said nodding my appreciation at the dancer on the stage. "She looks like she could snap a couple of you guys in half with her thighs."

"No, I'm talking about Stephanie cutting Ranger off from whatever it is that they had. You're sure?" Cal asked.

"I was coming out of the PD when I saw the two of them talking over by her vehicle. It was pretty animated."

"What did you hear?" Ram asked.

"Does it matter what they said?" I witnessed her slap him but good, you could hear it all the way across the parking lot. "The real proof is in the conversation I overheard Ranger have with Hector later this afternoon," I said.

"What was that about?" Cal asked.

"Hector has been told to revoke her access to the seventh floor and only grant her access to the lobby, control room and garage," I said.

"He'll be a bastard to deal with now," Cal said.

"He's a bastard a lot of the time. Now he won't have his favorite distraction available."

"He'll probably head to Miami or Boston as a result of this," Caesar said.

"Who cares? What he does on his own time doesn't concern us. Now who's ready to pay up?" I asked the group.

This pool was about when or if Ranger would get in and stay in the saddle with Stephanie. It got renewed every six months and the money kept rolling over. The pool had a permanent close date of tomorrow. We had all figured if he didn't get in the saddle and stay there after two years, it would never happen. In the beginning I just didn't see him staying interested in her long term. I know Ranger's proclivities and Stephanie Plum is just too _nice_ and _sweet _to keep him happy. Ranger used to like them dangerous and edgy. Her track record with cars did qualify her as dangerous, but not in an up close and personal kind of a way.

"How long?" Zip asked.

"How long what?" I asked. "How long until he goes sniffing after her again? Probably about a week, maybe two. Is that what you mean?"

"No. I think it's the last time he'll go after her. If she isn't putting out for him now on a regular basis, she probably never will. We need to declare open season," Zip said. "How long should we give her before we start hunting?"

"You're the old dude, and so you probably have the most valid input," Caesar said.

"That comment is going to cost you," I said. "I am not that much older than you guys."

"How old are you, Manny?"

"Forty," Tank answered for me.

"Hell, you really are the old dude," Caesar said. "That explains all the grey in your hair. You know, old guys shouldn't wear long hair or earrings, makes them look like they're trying to hang on to their youth. You know, like they're desperate."

"At least I still have my hair, unlike some of us, Caesar," I said as I smoothed my ponytail and ran my left index finger over the hoop in my ear. "And I'm not falling for it. You guys need to pay up. I've got my eye on a purchase, and your hard earned cash is going to help me get it this weekend."

"You didn't answer the question," Hal said. "How long until we can start to make our moves on Stephanie? She doesn't work at the office anymore and it's limiting how often any of us can run into her to ask her out."

"I don't know that she needs any recovery time. I doubt that there's a minimum wait time for someone who wasn't in a relationship to recover from one that never happened."

"Are you gonna put your hat in the ring?" Cal asked. "I want to know how many of us are going to try to make a play for her."

"The answer to that is a resounding 'no'. If she were blonde, maybe. If she were more adventurous, possibly. But she's not my type and never has been. From what I understand, she wants a commitment and I don't commit beyond the kiss goodnight. I say 'good luck' to all the contestants, you'll all have your work cut out for you."

The guys all smiled like they'd been offered a free lap dance. Maybe one of them will get lucky and get a chance to date her. Maybe all of them will get a chance to date her. Not my business, not my problem.

"Now pay up, I've got plans in an hour for Louise."

~x~x~

A couple of years ago, Louise had bragged that she could suck a golf ball through a straw pretty much guaranteeing that I'd have a good time. She could and I did, often. She could give lessons; probably she'd get arrested if she did, but she'd make a fortune.

Out of consideration for my partners, I try not to hold back when I'm the recipient of a woman's oral talents. I don't believe in making them suffer from lockjaw because I'm having a good time.

Then again, I don't appreciate it when I'm going down on a woman and she expects me to be attached to a nose cannula so I can continue for hours on end. Frankly, the only reason to go down is to repay a kindness or to ensure she'll be compliant when I want to explore more _interesting_ pursuits.

"Louise, no good deed should go unpunished," I said when her head returned to the pillow.

I love getting her, or any woman, to that place of desperation and need and leaving her there. Women make some of the most delicious promises when they reach certain levels of frustration, I've gotten several to promise to do things they wouldn't have considered otherwise, and then I've gotten them to make good on those promises. I wanted her to ride out that place between torture and release a little longer so the release would be just a little sweeter for her. For us.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"You have no idea."

~x~x~

The next couple of weeks were uneventful. My life was the same old routine with the exception of taking Stephanie to Newark on Fridays. I wore ear plugs while I was in the waiting room; it kept the one eyed monster at bay and I didn't want to do something rash when she got out of the appointment.

The chiropractor had explained to me that she was basically drunk when he got done with her if she had a tough session. Sometimes people acted like happy drunks other times they were the sad, leave-me-alone-in-the-corner drunks. The last couple of times, Stephanie had been quiet but in a good mood; obviously altered but in a good mood nonetheless. This time she was contemplative bordering on sad.

"Everything okay?" I asked when I got her back into the car.

She blew out a deep sigh. "Yeah, I just can't believe I let it happen to me all over again."

"Is it a work thing? If you need help on your technique, maybe I can give you some advice."

"Want to give me advice on how to get an asshole out of my head?"

I had no advice to give her, so I kept silent.

"Do I look like an easy lay to you?"

"No." She looks like middle American white bread, despite the Jersey girl attitude. Pretty, but not in a sexual way.

"Good. Do I look like I have interchangeable bed partners?"

"No. You look like a nice girl." I don't need nice girls in my life; they take time, commitment and effort.

"He's a fucking bastard. Ranger is a God damned bastard."

I kept my mouth shut and let her talk.

"Do you know what that son of a bitch said to me the last time he fucking graced me with his presence?"

"No."

"'I warned you.' And he started trying to pull my clothes off and force me into the bedroom. Jesus Christ. Just who does he think I am? Better yet, who in the hell does he think he is?"

Not a word crossed my lips.

"A long time ago, he said if Morelli was gone from my bed for any period of time, he'd be in it. He said it like I didn't have a say in who's invited into my bed. What a presumptuous, pompous asshole. Morelli has been out of my hair for weeks, thank God, during which His Majesty all but ignored me the entire time. A couple of weeks ago, he made an indecent proposal which I turned down, and then last night, he breaks into my apartment and says 'I warned you.' What a dick."

Silence was my best possible answer and she could say what she wanted. I wasn't going to manipulate her or pry; it was none of my business. It sounded like she just needed to get this off of her chest.

"So I told him if there was no semblance of a relationship, there was no sex. He didn't believe me."

"Did he try to force you?" I was a little more alert now. Consensual is one thing, an attempted rape would get this bastard dead, slowly; to hell with the consequences.

"No, but after he released hold of my clothes, he tried to talk me into it and when I still wouldn't, he started to call names. I am not a tease and I am NOT any of the more colorful names he chose to use to describe me. I don't make promises I won't keep."

"And then?"

"I told him to get out. That I only share my bed by invitation and he wouldn't be receiving one now or any time in the future. I coped with Morelli playing 'red light green light' for years and now he's parked at the curb. I don't want to deal with Ranger and his hot-cold routine anymore. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't have a fucking thermostat and just wants me when he's in the mood. Fuck that noise. I need time away from men. I need a long time way. Some day the right one will be there, but I don't want it to be Mr. High and Mighty. He can God damned kiss my ass."

"He probably wants to kiss it," I said hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, well he had his chance. He's had a lot of chances. Nope. I'm done with him. In fact, I'm done with men. No more; they're all jerks."

"You aren't going to start the Trenton chapter of the 'She-Man Man Hater's Club' or whatever are you?"

"The Little Rascals?" she asked with the first smile I'd seen all afternoon.

I smiled back at her. Hey, I'm diverse. "Yeah. So do you remember Spanky and Alfalfa and the 'He-Man Woman Hater's Club?"

"I remember. Good times after school before doing homework. And no. I don't hate men, I just don't want one in my life on a permanent basis for a while."

"Probably a good choice."

I couldn't let her see what I felt inside. I have no intention of making a move on Stephanie, but I want to watch the clowns at the office try see their acts and go down in flames. This information isn't going to benefit anyone, but I do like having inside track.

"A lot of guys are jerks. Do you need for me to stop anywhere for you before I drop you home?"

"Nah, I'm good. And you aren't one of the jerks, Manny. Thanks for listening," she said resting her head against the window.

And once again I'm proven right. Keeping my mouth shut keeps me out of trouble. She thinks I'm a nice guy. As far as my professional life goes, I'm polite and I usually manage to do the right thing. My personal life? Not necessarily so nice, at least not all the time.

~x~x~

One by one, the guys at the office were attempting to make a play for Stephanie. I don't have any of the details, and I'm sure she was lovely about letting them each down, but I would have loved to have watched it unfold.

Zero was the latest one to make an overt attempt. He made sure he got assigned to pick up Rangeman's file's at the bonds office on a routine basis. He always showed up with a box of Boston crème doughnuts, he'd buzz the lot for her car before he went in the building.

I was there with him the one day that she was still there. After he got our files, he went over to Steph.

"Hey, um, Stephanie, can I ask you something outside?" he asked.

"Sure," she said standing from her seat. "Oh Manny, can you pick me up early on Friday? I've got an errand to run before we head up to Newark."

"Sure thing, Nieves. Leave me a message with the time and I'll be there," I said while I was looking over Rangeman's files.

The pair left the office and went around the corner and were gone about three minutes.

When we were back in the truck, I asked him how it went.

"It didn't. I was going to ask her out for Friday since it's my only day off for the next ten days."

"And?"

"Well, you're going out with her on Friday. You could have told a guy you were dating her. I'm y our partner, we aren't supposed to have secrets. Should I tell everyone else that you decided to put your name in the hat after all?"

"No, because we aren't dating. I've got plans on Friday night with Victoria. I'm just taking Stephanie to her chiropractor's appointment that afternoon. She usually sleeps on the ride back and I read files for work while I wait for her. What did you ask her?"

"I asked her if she could help me pick out a present for my sister's birthday the next time I have an afternoon off."

"That's great. With her the subtle approach might just work. She shops."

"Yeah, but it's a problem because I don't shop and I don't have a sister."

~x~x~

Normally when I take Stephanie to Newark, we talk a little on the way up and I play the radio while she sleeps on the way back.

"Manny, is there something in the water over at Rangeman?"

"What are you talking about?" The only time I'd ever heard that phrase it meant a bunch of women were pregnant at the same time. If there was a burst of unplanned pregnancies, there would need to be an in-service meeting about birth control. And there would be a huge increase in the health insurance premiums and the cost would be spread among the guilty _and _the innocent.

"It's just been weird lately. Several of the guys have been around a lot for no reason. It's like they've been skulking around corners. It doesn't seem to matter where I go, I've got a shadow but not in a bad way. I'm not in any danger right now, there've been no stalkers or other weirdness."

"Did you ever think that some of them might be interested in you and don't know how to approach you?"

"No. I mean, they've never been interested before."

I didn't say anything, but the look I gave her clearly said, "Please."

"This time, I want it to be different. When I'm ready to date, I'm going to see if I can find a guy with a nice, normal job. No knives, no guns, no handcuffs, no distractions, no stakeouts," she said with a determination I hadn't ever heard from her before.

"They'll be disappointed. You've been like the forbidden fruit, and they all want a taste."

"Eww. Lovely visual," she said. "I never thought of it or them that way. Personally, I think a boring guy might be a good change."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" I asked.

"Nah, I just want to be open to the possibilities. You don't know anyone who's normal, do you?"

I shook my head. "Not a one," I said as I turned up the radio.

* * *

Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Manny is incredibly private and isn't sure he wants his history or backstory exposed. - Alf.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers: same as before, but I'm having fun anyway

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 05  
Manny's Story  
by Alf.**

I was on my way out for a late evening rendezvous with Heidi. Heidi is newly divorced with no kids. She looks great from the front, but her ass is magical, she could stop traffic with it. This is to say nothing about the things she lets me do to it.

I'd showered, shaved and put on something clean and nondescript; I wouldn't be wearing it long, so it didn't really matter. I'd packed up some candles to drip on her for later. These smelled of cinnamon; kind of warm and spicy just like Heidi.

I was just applying some aftershave when my phone rang; Tank's ringtone. I knew Tank was supposed to be working a takedown with Stephanie and it was due to go down sooner than later. If he was calling it was probably for a celebratory outing; my own outing was due to start any minute.

"Yeah Tank, what's up?" I asked as I locked my door and headed down to my truck.

"How long have you been married?" asked a voice distinctly not Tank's.

"Who is this?" I asked taking the phone from my ear looking at it, not that that helps.

"Ranger."

Fuck.

"Start over. What's going on?"

"After a botched distraction, your _wife_ needed to go to the hospital in Princeton. A bystander was going on about how we needed to call her husband. Claimed to know you, a Joseph Lipari."

There goes playtime with Heidi. Maybe she'll understand and we can reschedule for tomorrow or the next night.

"I know Joe, he's Steph's chiropractor. Nice guy," I said removing the three condoms from my wallet. I put the condoms back in the box and replaced the wallet in my back pocket.

"What did you do to her that she needs a chiropractor?"

"_I _didn't do anything. She had a minor fender bender a little while back. Fill me in on the details." I patted down my front pocket to find my car keys and I headed for the door.

All I got out of the rest of the conversation was that she was hurt and that this was a command performance, all the way to Princeton. I'm glad the call didn't come twenty minutes later or I wouldn't have answered the call.

When I arrived at the ER waiting room, I saw Ranger waiting with Zip.

"Why are you out here?" I asked when I joined the group. "Shouldn't you be in there with her?"

"Why am I out here? _I'm_ not family or her husband. Last month she rescinded my medical power of attorney, so I have no reason legal to be with her," Ranger said. "They need for _you_ to fill out some paperwork for Stephanie Ramos."

He shoved a clipboard of forms into my hand. I looked over the forms and realized I didn't have any of the necessary information. I had no idea when her birthday fell, what her social security number is, or if she's got any allergies. I knew where she lived, we all did, but I had no idea what the actual address was.

"Can you help me out with any of this?"

"You're the _husband_, figure it out yourself." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. I really couldn't blame him but I didn't deserve his hostility either.

I took the clipboard with her paperwork to the triage desk. I took a deep breath and prepared to use a word in association with my own name that I detested, _wife._ That word just sticks in my throat, it has for years.

"I'm Manuel Ramos, can you tell me which bed my wife is in?" I asked the pudgy brunette in Snoopy scrubs sitting behind the desk. As long as it was assumed I was the husband, I may as well play the role to the hilt.

"Sure, Stephanie Ramos is in bed twelve. Let me buzz you back."

"Thanks."

I found the curtain and pulled it back. She was laying on a gurney getting stitches at her hairline. At least I assume it was here, I recognized the shape under the sheet, but she could have been one of many women I've known.

"Sorry, I'll come back," I said.

"We're almost done here, Mr. Ramos," the doctor said not facing me.

"Nieves, are you okay?" I asked as I stepped closer to the head of the bed.

"Can we talk about it later when you take me home?" she asked. "And can you tell the guys they can leave now?"

"I'll be back, but we'll have to do some paperwork before I can get you out of here," I said picking up her hand and kissing it to placate the audience.

"I'll be another fifteen or so minutes, Mr. Ramos," the little man sitting on the stool said still not turning from his work."

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes," I said. "I'll go send the guys home."

I took my time heading back to the front of the ward. I was about to _dismiss_ Ranger and he didn't take that kind of thing lightly.

"How is she?" Ranger asked.

"She's still getting stitches. What happened?" I asked.

"The skip figured out who she was and what was going to go down. He wasn't happy about it. Steph did the standard stumble thing in front of him, but he caught her and held a knife to her throat. Used her as a shield to leave the building"

"Shit." I traded shifts with Caesar so I could spend time with the flavor of the month. I should have been there instead of Caesar; it was my fault she got hurt.

"When Roy wielded the knife from his hands …"

"Roy, not Caesar?"

"Roy. The skip marched Stephanie out of the building and when he cleared it, threw her into the wall."

He gave me the rest of the details, about the damage done to the skip and the fact that by the time EMS came to check Stephanie out, one Joseph Lipari was hovering over her looking for her husband.

"Did you say who you were?" I asked Ranger.

"I was going to say I was the boyfriend, but when he kept going on about the _husband_," he spat out the word like it was distasteful to him, "I said I was an old friend. He wants you to call him next week to see if Stephanie needs to be adjusted again as a result of the fall."

Perfect.

"We need to get back to the office," Ranger said to me. "You take over from here. Take her home. Her car is in the garage, someone can drop it off to her apartment in the morning."

I agreed and went back to see what was behind curtain number twelve.

~x~x~

Stephanie was left alone with me so she could get cleaned up before receiving her final instructions and a prescription for some pain medication. She had contusions and abrasions on both of her arms and her face in addition to the stitches.

While he was gone, I reviewed the paperwork with Stephanie and got the major blanks filled in and changed the last name from Ramos to Plum. At least now I knew her birthday and the fact that she's allergic to penicillin.

I put her in my jacket to cover her arms and keep her warm. She'd worn the requisite sleeveless halter dress that kept nothing warm and nothing from the imagination.

The doctor took me aside and said, "I'm Stephen Russo, Joe's brother-in-law. He called me from the restaurant parking lot, before her ambulance even left. He wanted me to look her over. I'm glad I did, she's a very pretty woman. It would be a pity if the stitches didn't heal well. She doesn't have a regular plastic surgeon, does she?"

"No." Why should she? It isn't like she's old enough to worry about needing to have a facelift.

"It's just that with facial lacerations and stitches, she should probably be followed by a plastic surgeon until things heal."

"You wouldn't have been here otherwise?" I asked. It didn't look that bad to me.

"She would have gotten the plastic surgeon on call. Joe really likes you two. He wanted to make sure she was well taken care of when she came in. He also made me promise to give you the family rate on whatever work needs to be done."

"Family rate?"

"Yeah, whatever insurance doesn't cover, we'll just write off." The doctor handed me another series of forms. "Call me in a couple of days so I can take another look at her face and see how she's doing. After she's recovered, if you want to have her breasts augmented, I'll do it at cost. You can look over my book if you want to see some before and after shots. She's got a decent set, but they could be better."

I nodded. "Thanks for taking such good care of her. And we'll think about your offer of other work."

Well fuck.

I found an all night pharmacy on the way home. She waited in the car and dozed while the script was filled.

I was going to take her back to her apartment, but my place was closer and I was exhausted. There's something about the mere fact of a hospital that takes a lot of energy out of me. If I was going to be up most of the night, I was going to do it in my own house and not at Rangeman where things could be monitored.

The doctor had wanted me to wake her every couple of hours to make sure she didn't have a concussion.

I shook her shoulder gently after I pulled into the driveway. "Stephanie, time to wake up."

She opened her eyes, tried to focus them, and closed them again.

"Let's go. I'm not going to carry you inside and you can't sleep in the cab of the truck all night."

I know women seem to have fantasies about being carried by men; not my style. If one or the other of her legs had been broken, maybe, but she could move under her own steam if she could keep her eyes open.

"Where are we?"

"My house. Let's get you inside so I can put you to bed."

I took her purse, paperwork and pills and guided her up the path to my front door.

"Why are we here?"

"Because I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I'm not going to bite you. As they say, I'm just not that into you."

"I know. I'm not into you, either. I do like you, you aren't one of the jerks," she said with a yawn.

I had her wait in the hall while I lit the kitchen, bathroom and the bedroom. It's a simple house, only three bedrooms and two baths, the rest is pretty much standard for an older ranch with a basement. It still hurts like a bitch if you hit the furniture in the dark.

"You'll want to take a couple of these before you get into bed," I said handing her two tablets and a glass of water.

"I can sleep on the sofa."

"No, you can't, nobody can. That sofa isn't meant for sleeping on, most of the springs are shot. I have to wake you every couple of hours, it's going to be easier and faster if we're in the same room. Besides, it's a king so we aren't likely to run into each other."

"Do you have an old t-shirt or something I can sleep in?" she asked with a yawn. "This isn't very comfortable."

"Are you sure you want a t-shirt, because I've got some sweats if you want them."

"T-shirt, please."

I opened a drawer and took out an old washed-out shirt that said, "_I know the voices in my head aren't real, but they've got some good ideas._" Showed her the bathroom, gave her a new toothbrush, and towels in case she wanted to shower. I proceeded to change into a pair of sweat pants, no shirt. I showered before I picked her up and didn't really care whether or not I brushed my own teeth. I just wanted the lights out.

I was already in the bed reading when she came out of the bathroom. I don't know what all some women do in bathrooms, I don't want to know. All I am sure of is that it takes them twice as long as most men.

"You need anything before I cut the lights?" I asked after she crawled into her side.

"No. Thanks for coming with me and smoothing things over with Ranger."

"Things aren't smooth with Ranger, I think he wants to kill us both."

"He'll survive."

I set the alarm for two hours, kissed the gold medallion of San Miguel that I always wear around my neck, rolled onto my side facing away from her, and closed my eyes. Almost as soon as they were closed, the alarm went off and I woke Stephanie to make sure she was OK. I asked her a series of questions, got the right answers and reset the alarm.

We did that another three times, God, it makes for a long night.

The only other interruption I had was at 3:30 when Ranger called. "Did you take her home?"

"She's with me."

"You aren't on four."

"No. She's a big girl, Ranger. She's just fine. You can talk to her tomorrow; we're sleeping."

I terminated the call and shut down the phone. If he wanted to know how she was so badly, he could have stuck around and played nursemaid himself.

~x~x~

In the morning, I assessed her a 'final time'. She knew who I was, the date, the name of the current president, and the fact she wasn't at home.

"You hungry?" I asked from behind the bathroom door. I pulled on clean underwear and the jeans I wear around the house on the weekends, worn and torn but incredibly comfortable. "I normally don't make breakfast, but I can see what I have to throw together."

"If you've got them, I can make eggs. It's not that hard, if you like scrambled."

"Scrambled is good. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

When I emerged from the bathroom, I found not only Stephanie in the kitchen, but Ranger. They were engaged in a stare down.

"Over rode the security system, I see," I said to Ranger. "Any particular reason?"

"Just wanted to make sure Stephanie was alright," he said. He switched to Spanish before he said, "You could at least put on a shirt or shoes when you have company. Between the two of you, only one of you is dressed."

I hadn't noticed, but Stephanie was just wearing my t-shirt, panties and nothing else. Taking a good look at her, I should have given her a different shirt, that one was a little short and was riding up in the back. It isn't like there was anything interesting on display, unlike the dress she'd worn the night before.

I responded in kind, "My house, my rules. You can leave at any time; she's in no danger from me. I'll make sure she looks decent before I take her home."

"Babe, you ready to go?" he asked turning his attention to her.

"No, actually I'm hungry and I was about to make Manny some breakfast," she said. "Want some scrambled eggs, Ranger? Or coffee? Manny, you do have coffee, right?"

"Yeah, I'll get it started," I said as I brushed behind her to get to the fridge. I opened a carton of orange juice and took a swig. Then I got the coffee and a couple of mugs from the cabinet. "You want milk for your coffee, Steph?"

"Did you swig out of that carton, too?"

I smiled. I don't, not normally. Why bother destroying the illusion that I'm a pig?

"I'll take it straight unless you've got some of the powdered creamer stuff."

"It's a fresh carton."

"Okay then. Thanks."

"As much as I hate to break up this little domestic scene, I want to talk to Manny alone," Ranger said. I could tell he'd been trying extremely hard to keep his voice neutral, but he was failing.

I tipped my head and led him to the living room.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked. I opted to keep my conversation with him in Spanish; it's not the first language of either of us, but I figured it was appropriate for the current game of 'quien es mas macho?' (who is most macho)

"Where the hell did the bruises on her ass come from?"

"You'll probably find more on her back. She bruises easily."

"And how often have you bruised her?"

"Actually, I haven't. Her chiropractor has hit her pretty hard a couple of times. Not a big deal. She's good with it. It isn't like anyone else is checking her out."

"You brought her here?"

"Yeah. So? It's not like she's your responsibility," I said. "I watched her slap you in the parking lot a couple of weeks ago, and I know she's not impressed with some of the names you've called her recently. You need to find a way to get over her or you need to change your tactics and pursue her. I'm going to see how she's doing in the kitchen," I said. "And not that it's any of your business, but nothing happened. She's not my type. Maybe with a little hair dye and some training, we could fix that."

He glared and was about to say something when his phone rang. I kept my eye on Ranger as he answered.

~x~x~

I lent Stephanie a pair of sweats and gave her the nickel tour before I drove her home. She saw the office, living room, and the other bathroom.

"What's behind this door?" she asked.

"That's the man cave. I keep it locked out of habit." Let her think what she wants, that room is locked and will remain that way.

I showed her the detached garage and the projects I've been working on.

"Are any of them rideable?" she asked.

"This one," I said moving a tarp off my current baby. "It's a 1959 AMC Matchless G9, my current pride and joy."

"Will you let me ride it?"

"Not today, but maybe sometime. First time out, I'll drive. You can sit behind me."

"I do have a license to drive motorcycles," she countered.

"If you break it, you buy it. This one is worth more than half your annual salary."

"The bitch seat it is."

* * *

A/N: See? I told you the word 'husband' would come back and bite Manny in the ass.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Alf.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimers: Always the same, never to vary. I make nothing except the joy of playing with the characters and the hopes of amusing you, too.

A/N: Saludos my darlings, and you know who you are. The bill has been paid for each of you at Nando's Private Hideaway as my thank you. Please return the servers in the upright and locked position when you are done with them. Thank you, the management.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 06  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

I had the privilege of reading the dossier again. I read it about once a week in an effort to see if there isn't something new or different about it this time; a name, something. Usually, there isn't.

To summarize, Jonathan Russo isn't a violent man, he doesn't need to be; he hires people with those talents. This penchant for acquiring the right people and paying them incredibly well kept him safe and alive. Even though it was common knowledge that he was the man in charge, there was never enough evidence to get him arrested.

The job of getting tangible, usable surveillance on the Russo syndicate had been under negotiations with Rangeman for over a year. They basically wanted the job for free, but they needed the intel to be indictable. Several of the many alphabet soup agencies had to join forces to come up with our fee. They all wanted to stop Russo's import/export business. Not that import/export isn't a valid business, but firearms that have no serial numbers tend to make the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms nervous, as well as everyone else. A big shipment of weapons that was going to go from a source in the US down to Venezuela and it was going to happen by boat. This was a pre-existing pattern for the Russo family; they moved arms up and down the Atlantic via houseboats; very little customs to deal with, especially when leaving the US. The rest of the authorities, well they were paid off on regular intervals.

There is an addition to the pattern in recent years; they were spending considerable time along the coast of Mexico; docking at specific locations. Historically, he was known to park at the Mayan Riviera for up to a month at a time, usually in June. Exchanges would be made and within a couple of months there would be a rebellion either rise or fall somewhere in Latin America; the highest bidder always got the weapons.

There hadn't been anything concrete other than the fact that I was supposed to be the one going in undercover; and alone. I was having a hard time finding a way into the inner sanctum, no one else was able to come up with a plausible plan. There'd been conjecture that Ranger would be recognized, so it was determined I'd be the one to take over the op.

At one point, the job could have gone to Caesar, Ranger or me. I volunteered to make it easier on the other guys in the organization; a couple of the guys had young kids and I couldn't see their kids growing up without fathers. I'm the oldest guy on the team and have the least to lose; no wife or kids depending on me.

Now none of that mattered. I was the only viable candidate.

Why?

Stephanie arranged the cover and had no idea what she was doing at the time. Stephanie was already chosen by her own admission. She'd announced that we were married to a 'family' member and I'd never denied it. We were married by default in the eyes of the Russo family. To the Russo's married men are perceived as being more stable, so I gained instant credibility with them based on this little misconception.

The other thing that went to my favor was that I already spoke Spanish; Spanglish to be precise. Being raised in south Texas there's almost no way to avoid at least some Spanish influence in either culture or language. My parents spoke it at home and with relatives, but as kids we usually answered in English or a combination of the two languages. As I got older, I realized the benefits of being bilingual and bi-literate, but in recent years I had gotten lazy with my skills. I think in English, I dream in English and I pursue _all _of my interests in English.

When initial negotiations with the government began over a year ago when we were all in contention, it was determined that my Spanish needed to come up several notches in terms of both pronunciation and use in order for me to succeed in a nebulous situation. I wouldn't necessarily need to speak it, but I'd need to understand everything, especially the nuances around me. I could keep my conversations in English, but listen in to the help when their guard was down.

For months I'd been doing some intense work with Spanish tutors, to get rid of the Texas twang and the slang from living at the border. I'd had to change tutors a couple of times, I paid more attention to some tutors more than others during the lessons. Now I'm working with a shriveled old man from Peru who won't let me slide in _anything_. Sure it is great for credibility and it is perfect for my education, but I really miss the Argentinian tutor. Okay, so her accent was difficult, but she made tonguing exercises a lot of fun; probably why she'd been replaced.

Stephanie had no idea that her chiropractor was connected to the Russo family. The doctor who stitched her up in Princeton, Stephen Russo, wasn't the lynch pin, but he was the younger brother of Jonathan Russo. I guess he did the emergency nose jobs and facial reconstructions for the group.

After her most recent visit to the chiropractor, we'd been asked us to wait. He wanted to introduce us to his nephew. Christopher Russo is the youngest son of the Russo crime family. It turns out that Chris Russo had a thing for motorcycles and might be in the market.

"Chris, I'd like to introduce you to someone who might have a toy you are interested in," Joe said. "Chris Russo, this is Manuel Ramos."

We shook hands and nodded.

"And this is," Joe said.

"Stephanie," Stephanie said. She used no last name and likely wasn't aware of not providing it.

Now the Russo family thinks that I'm in business to restore and customize vintage bikes and Steph is my wife. Contact made, cover established, no harm, no foul. Easy as pie.

~x~x~

The staff meeting three days ago went poorly, to say the least. Actually, Ranger was losing his perspective and his control was almost gone. Stephanie was included on most of these meetings and was now sitting next to me, proof in front of the group that she wanted to exert her independence.

Before the meeting started, Stephanie came in with two cups of coffee. Normally Stephanie would bring in a cup of coffee for Ranger he looked at her expectantly until she placed the cup in front of me.

"Cream and sugar, right?" she asked quietly.

I nodded. "Thanks, you didn't have to. I can get my own coffee."

"I wanted to."

~x~x~

Ranger and I had our own contract negotiations away from prying eyes. I was going to get a bonus for each week that cover was successfully maintained and a larger bonus, a percentage of the contract, when it was satisfied completely.

I also re-worked my will and named Stephanie my beneficiary.

"Feeling husbandly?" Ranger asked.

"You know as well as I do that I always name my partner as my beneficiary on one of these jobs. I want her well compensated if things go pear shaped. If we both bite it, I want her family to inherit what would have gone to her. This is just like any other time I've done a job like this."

"True. It's just been a while since you've gone in by yourself," he said handing me yet another series of forms for my signature.

"You know this is going to have to look real," I said to Ranger after the financials and paperwork had been settled.

He raised his eyebrow and said nothing.

"I know you have designs on her, but I can't let anything or anyone break this cover. You will keep your hands and your lips to yourself until this is over."

He inclined his head.

"Once this is over, you can go back to whatever you have had with her. I won't get in your way. I will get in your way if you put the job or either of us at risk."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said.

He was lying, but about which part I wasn't certain.

~x~x~

The chance for success on this operation was high, but so was the price to be paid at least in terms of my personal freedoms. I have to give up all of my playmates and pretend to be a newlywed. A newly married man doesn't have multiple playmates unless it is established well in advance, and we were supposed to look and act traditional. Christ. I don't sleep with that many women, it isn't like I have a schedule, but I like some variety. Okay, I like and have a lot of variety, and soon I was going to have no variety and no sex.

The only real relief Ranger had was that he knew I wasn't into Stephanie, not for the long haul. It seems like every other straight man at the office was into her, or wanted to be and in the Biblical sense. I was the only exception. I think that made it easier for her, too. She didn't think she'd have to fend me off in the middle of the night or have to keep her guard up. Ranger had blown another battle with Stephanie, but he wasn't willing to cede the war just yet.

Stephanie didn't want to suffer financially for however long this undercover thing was going to last. She was going to have to give up skip tracing and her freedom; it wasn't a safe house but it may as well have been. Come to think of it, I lost my freedom, all my freedom, due to this special project.

The company had to pay her average monthly salary skip tracing, pay the rent on her apartment regardless of how long she might need to go out of town, provide Vinnie someone to pick up her skips, and he had to give her a bonus of $1000 per week under the table to keep her happy and compliant. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of providing room and board to Rex, but he was destined to become the mascot for the control room. I think he would have agreed to almost anything; she was integral for success, and that was killing him.

To be continued …

* * *

Thanks as always for reading and reviewing. Next week, the rules of the game change again ... remember for whom the bell tolls and all that jazz.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Disclaimers are as they have been, no money just fun.

Just like I believe in the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny, I believe in the power of the Plot Bunny.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 07  
Manny's Story  
by Alf.**

Over twenty years ago when I married Rita, I wasn't involved at all in the creation of the wedding ceremony. I wore a new suit, showed up at the church, and stood like a Ken doll during the service. The whole day was a total out of body experience. The flowers, decorations, guest list, everything had been her choice. Her father paid most of the bills, so it didn't bother me one way or another what the service was like as long as it was legal and I had a legitimate claim on the woman when all was said and done.

This time, I'm _not _getting married, and I'm going to be dressed like a penguin, I've been involved in all of the details and when it's over I'm not going to have any claim on Stephanie other than for a job. God must be smiling at the irony of all of this.

The morning was clear and clean; it was crackling with some kind of energy. Everything seemed a little more focused, a little sharper; even the birdsong coming through the windows.

There was a literal caravan on the drive to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. No one would know us, it wasn't that far from the office, and most importantly, there would be no rumors spread.

It is one of the few times when we were all in casual clothes; no one had on a uniform. We didn't know how much work we'd actually have to do when we got to the site, no point in wearing work uniforms for that.

Stephanie was in the same SUV as Louis and Ella Guzman. They were supposed to be the parents of the groom; I looked more like them than Steph did, we shared the same dark coloring. Ella also doubled as the caterer. Their vehicle had the cake, buffet items, folding tables, chairs and linens.

Ella had been put in charge of all the edibles, snacks, drinks, lunch and most importantly the cake. She had frosted three Styrofoam tiers from the craft store and stuck them together with toothpicks. The top layer, which I was promised would be edible, was covered in frosting roses. All in all, it was very pretty, a bit ornate for my tastes but Ella was showing off. Ranger doesn't give her much of a chance to show her flare, so she took advantage.

Binky, Hector, Cal and I were in another vehicle. We completed the cast. Binky was going to play the role of the reverend. Since his brother-in-law is a Methodist minister, he was able to borrow authentic vestments and prayer book.

Hector was the photographer. Because he does all of the security installations, he has an unparalleled eye for detail. I've seen some of his surveillance photos and some of them were good enough to frame. His black and whites are amazing; he could be shown in galleries if he ever gets tired of working for Ranger.

Cal had wanted to be a Hollywood makeup artist before he joined the service. You'd never know to look at him that he still read fashion magazines and critiqued the styles the models wore. I've never argued the point with the man, but for someone so involved in how others look it made me wonder. Can you really take a man with a flaming skull tattooed on his forehead seriously? He had two bags of makeup and one more of equipment for her hair.

Ranger and Tank had the vehicle with all of the costumes. They left early to secure the location, get the flowers and handle any of the remaining details.

To say Ranger was upset is not giving it justice. Ranger always drives and this morning I noticed Tank was behind the wheel.

At the rendezvous point, also known as the chapel, we all disembarked. Stephanie took her costume bags from Ranger. She and Cal went into the room that was designated for the bridal party.

No one wanted to ask Stephanie if she still had her old wedding dress, much less if she'd be willing to wear it for photos. Ranger didn't want to rent a dress, Cal volunteered to go to all the thrift stores to find dresses that could be altered to work. For under $100, he found three choices. He used his own money and planned to re-donate them after this charade was over to get the tax deduction. Of course, the dress was going to have to live in my closet for a short period of time. If they don't wear them again, why do women hold onto these things?

Ella orchestrated the layout for the 'reception'. You'd think she'd been in the catering corps in the Army; she gave orders only once and clearly. She was to be obeyed with no questions and no hesitations. No one had an out except for Hector. Hector was busy decorating the altar with flowers and candles; he also placed additional lights to get the mood of the pictures right.

I was walking to the SUV to get yet another floral arrangement for Ella when I heard voices from the open window in the _bride's_ changing room.

"I told you to wear something that buttoned down. You never listen to me," Cal said.

"It does button down," she said.

"I meant the tank top. You're gonna have to take it off and put the other shirt back on or I can just work on you wearing nothing but your bra."

"No way. I don't have a bra on. The dress has built in stays so I didn't wear one. You can leave and I'll get rid of the tank top."

"I'm good with you not wearing either a shirt or a bra," he said.

"That isn't going to happen and we both know it. Give me a minute alone."

"Nope. I'll turn my back and it'll be faster that way. I don't have a lot of time and this is some serious work."

"Out."

"No."

I decided to save them both from any further argument. I went into the building and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"We need your help for a minute, can you come out?"

"Only for a minute," he said opening the door.

Stephanie mouthed the words 'thank you' to me as Cal left the room. I couldn't resist winking at her, it was probably my only good deed for the day.

Cal and I marched two floral arrangements to Ella before he rejoined Stephanie.

"Good, now I don't have to worry about you messing up your hair or makeup."

"You're right, Cal. I'm sorry. Can we get this show on the road?"

All of the exterior work was done, the nave of the church was lit and all of the men who would be in pictures changed. Still the door remained closed to the bridal chamber. Almost two hours had passed and they were still in there doing, exactly what, I don't know. Binky was elected by unanimous support to check on the bride's preparations.

Binky knocked on the door and said, "Stephanie, are you ready for your premarital counseling?"

"Sure, if you want to see the beast become a beauty," Cal said. "I still have an incredible amount of work to do."

Binky let himself in. Closed the door. Opened the door. Backed himself out. It was just that fast. He was ashen when he faced the crowd.

"What's the matter?" Ranger asked.

"You can't tell if she actually has skin under all that makeup. She looks like a drag queen, and not a very convincing one. If I didn't know she was a woman, I'd be looking for an Adam's apple. And her hair, my God, he's trying to straighten it by using an ironing board and standard iron."

"How is she holding up?" I asked.

"I don't know. She can't look in the mirror; he's got a blanket covering it. Any one of us could do a better job of her makeup wearing a blindfold. She's gonna be pissed off but big. Especially since there's gonna be photographic evidence of what he's done to her."

Pissed Stephanie we had all dealt with in the past, in some ways it was better than a subservient Stephanie. You know where you stand with angry Stephanie, subservient Stephanie is a bit passive aggressive. Passive aggressive is dangerous because it's unpredictable. Unpredictable with Stephanie is never good.

Ranger knocked on the door, "Cal, come on, let's go. We're going to lose use of the building soon. I only had it booked for one day."

"She isn't even dressed yet."

"I won't put the dress on until he leaves," she yelled through the door.

"I'm not going to let you ruin your hair or makeup. If I leave, you'll do just that."

"Deal with it."

"You keep your temper up and I'll have to redo your face. You're getting all red and blotchy."

Cal was winning friends and influencing people.

"I think I'll take a walk until she's ready," I said to Ranger. "Give a shout when we're ready to go."

"Get your hands out of my God damned shirt, Cal. I can take my clothes off myself. I've been doing it since I was three," she screamed. "This goes way beyond hair and makeup."

The next sound was a slap and the sound of someone being slammed into the door. She must have been working out because it was so loud that it echoed.

Louis Guzman, who had been minding his own business and watching the clock, went to the door. He didn't bother to knock, he pushed it open and dragged Cal out by his belt loops. If Louis had a shotgun, Cal would have been in his sights. I guess Steph reminded him of his own daughter; she brings out the protective quality in older men.

Louis gathered Stephanie into his arms and tried to calm her down by shushing her and rocking her. Binky found Ella and brought her to join her husband.

"What has he done to you, child?" she asked.

"I don't know. He wouldn't let me look in the mirror," she said in a quiet voice. "I'm not sure I want to know either."

"Well, we can fix it," Ella said. "Louis, why don't you make sure Hector gets some candid shots of Manny and maybe one or two of Binky. How about a couple of you looking nervous? Daphne is getting married in a year and you need to start practicing your pacing now."

"Ella, we're on a schedule," Ranger said.

"I only need about half an hour," she said closing the door. "Child, who picked out your dress? Ranger, we need more like an hour unless you've got a white sheet I can use and start over; that'll take about an hour and a half."

~x~x~

Cal had to locate duct tape, clothes pins, staple gun, and a water bottle for Ella to do her magic on the pre-existing dress, hair and makeup. Even she backed down when she heard Ranger snarling over the SNAFU the day was becoming.

Stephanie requested chocolate to calm her nerves. Binky was sent on an emergency run to a convenience store; he bought seven or eight different chocolate bars because he was afraid of being wrong and paying a penalty. Did he think her head was going to spin around if he bought the wrong kind? Wonder how bad his wife is that time of the month?

When the door finally opened an hour later, Stephanie looked amazing. She looked like herself, but sleeker, more refined. The hair hung well below her shoulders in long waves and had a few flowers pinned into it. The dress had its puffy sleeves removed and the neckline slightly lowered. The skirt barely brushed the ground when she walked. She could have been on the cover of a bridal magazine, she was loveliness personified.

Actually lovely though she was, the look only lasted until you got to her feet. Stephanie assumed Cal would be providing shoes so she didn't bring any pumps. All she had were her sneakers and socks. She had the privilege of being barefooted for the photo shoot. There was no way Ranger was going to let anyone leave to acquire footwear for her, good thing her feet disappeared beneath the skirt.

"Five minutes more," Ella said. Ella had done so much to get Stephanie up to snuff, that her own look now needed repairs.

~x~x~

Hector took over one hundred pictures. There were pictures of Stephanie walking down the aisle in solemn, happy and teary mode. There were pictures of the two of us and the 'reverend' supposedly saying our vows. Hector insisted on taking a picture of the first 'kiss' at the altar.

It was the first kiss in every way possible. I'd never thought of her that way, but here we both were and I was obligated to kiss her. I did the obligatory staged peck, no tongue, and held it, which was all I had anticipated doing. Ranger was good with that because he said, "Ok, now let's move to the shots with the cake."

Hector didn't like the angle of the picture after he checked it on the display, so we did it again. And again. And again. The kisses got more comfortable, but they were far from passionate.

Ranger spoke to Hector in Spanish, "Don't we have enough pictures of them kissing?"

"I don't like the ones I've got," Hector said. He turned to me and asked, "Can you just kiss her like you really mean it for a while? I'll take pictures until I get at least a couple that I like."

"What did he say?" Stephanie asked.

"He wants me to keep kissing you until he gets a shot he likes. Are you OK with that?"

She nodded and said, "Sure, why not?"

"All right then," I whispered into her ear.

This time I let the kissing begin in earnest. Why not? I bracketed her face in my hands and moved in for a slow, gentle kiss. I would have kept it quiet and reserved except that she was kissing me back in a way that was promising all sorts of delights. I made a judgment call; I went with it. I placed my hands around her waist and drew her in closer to me. She put her hands around my neck and fitted quite nicely there.

You know how you can just tell that some women enjoy kissing? Stephanie Plum has it down to an art; kissing her isn't formulaic, calculated or plotted. Kissing her becomes all encompassing bordering on greedy; I'd be willing to overlook the fact she's brunette and has all that curly hair because she took kissing to a different level than most of the women I've experienced of late.

"Hector!" Ranger barked. "Enough pictures."

"But they look like they're having a good time and now is when the best shots can be taken," he said. "And the lighting is amazing right now. Want to see?"

Hector offered Ranger the camera. They reviewed some images on the view finder. It was all Hector could do to prevent Ranger from breaking the camera.

"What?" Stephanie asked as she came up for air.

"Ranger is having a really hard time watching this," I said quietly.

"So?" she said nipping my earlobe and then running her tongue around the shell of it.

"It really isn't very fair to punish him like this, you know?"

"It's been forever since I've kissed anyone; I've missed it. I love kissing."

"He's the boss, we can't torture the boss any more than necessary. Let's let Hector move on to the other pictures."

Things were strained between the three of us; that was no surprise. Ranger hadn't given up on the idea of Stephanie despite the fact she provided him no quarter. I don't know if he was still trying to corner her in dark alleys or not, none of my business.

Things got even more awkward when she asked about the ring.

"Do we have some kind of a ring? Every bridal picture showcases the ring in some way, shape or form," she said.

I pulled a well worn, gold band from my jacket pocket and slid it on to my own ring finger. May as well get used to wearing it now.

"It's just for the pictures," Ranger said handing her ring that had an oval stone in the middle with baguettes on the shoulders. "I need to take it back to the jeweler's when we get back to Trenton."

"It's beautiful," she said slipping it on her own finger. "It looks like something I might have picked out. Did you choose it?"

He inclined his head minutely, but it was enough to indicate that he had indeed selected a wedding ring for Stephanie Plum. Ranger finally bought her a ring and now she's wearing it for me. God really was enjoying the ironies of the day, wasn't he?

We did the obligatory pictures with the parents; the picture feeding each other cake; and several others all staged so they looked candid. The cake pictures were a bad idea because I decided to feed her cake from my fingers; she licked them clean of frosting and crumbs and that stunt made my dick so hard I could pound nails with it. The erection from kissing her earlier had started to subside, but was back with a vengeance and I had no way of dealing with it privately. It was a sweet torture, because I fed her cake several times; Hector and his damned light and perfect angles.

~x~x~

Back at the garage on Haywood, I told Stephanie that I'd give her a key to my place in a couple of days and that I'd help her pack some things to put out at my house.

"If we get checked out as a couple, that's where they're going to look. My place needs the air of authenticity; all the stuff you hide from someone when you're dating but you have to have in order to live needs to be at the house."

She nodded. "Okay, a box of tampons and other unmentionable female products will be included along with normal clothes and underwear."

"Feel free to bring over sexy stuff, too. We're supposed to be newlyweds," I said with a wink. "Hector, Caesar and I are going to be painting the inside tomorrow. Then Hector will start redecorating."

"I didn't think it was that bad."

"Let's be honest, Martha Stewart would gouge her eyes out if she saw my furniture. It's one thing for a guy to be design challenged, something else for a woman. As I recall, redecorating a nest is one of the first things a woman does when she lays her claim."

"Got it. I thought I was supposed to use fabric softener on your clothes to mark you."

"I don't own any fabric softener, but if you want to do laundry at the house and you use that stuff, knock yourself out. Hector has some ideas for the interior, but he's already said he wants your input."

She was hemming and hawking, not quite ready to leave. I have no idea what was on her mind, but I had phone calls to make and a black book to update before I put it into storage.

"Now, kiss your husband goodbye," I said. "I'll call you to set up a time to pack your stuff." I gave her a quick peck on the lips and swatted her on the ass as she headed for her own car.

* * *

A/N: Ah, yes the power of the right word in the wrong ear.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimers: Don't own 'em and don't clean up after them.

a/n: thanks in advance to the staff at the Brass Rail who produce an inexpensive breakfast and a great place for plot bunnies to roost/nest/do their voodoo.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 08  
Manny's Story  
by Alf.**

Several years ago when I bought the house and moved in, all the paint was the same in every room, white. I knew I wanted more color and didn't really care what colors I put on the walls, so I bought whatever hadn't sold and was sitting on clearance at the paint store. At five to ten dollars a gallon, I did both the store and me a favor. I got color and didn't have to pay much for it. And for the first time in my life there was no one to complain about my color choices; it was liberating.

Fresh paint is a smell I just can't tolerate, I find it to be overwhelming. I'm grateful that during renovations, I can sleep at Haywood. Hector's prep job was more than a little generous with the primer, I think he put on at least four coats per room. He kept muttering about color bleeding through and _some people_ having sense of color or style.

Now, my world was being completely altered by Hector. He said the inside of my house had looked like a piñata. I always liked those things, I mean they are a little loud and sometimes garish, but they're fun. A party of sorts, right? Besides, it was just me and I kind of liked burnt orange in the bathroom and forest green in the kitchen.

"White? Why white?" I asked. "How about yellow?"

"Yellow conflicts with too many other things. Besides, this isn't white, it's bisque. There are pink and purple tones in this," he said. "It's neutral with a hint of color."

"It's white. It's boring."

"It's perfect."

"I don't like it."

"You can paint it to look like the barrio again when everything is over. I want to be able to showcase your home. The colors you had would fight everything I have planned."

"Is the furniture going to be white, too?"

"I'm going for neutrals. Think beige and tan with a smattering of browns. You can change the accessories depending on the season."

"I don't have any accessories. Everything I've got is out."

"You live a sad little life," he said shaking his head at me.

"What about the sofa?" I was more than willing to get rid of the sofa, the one I had was a nightmare. After this was over, I'd see about buying it from the company. I assume all of the furniture is leased or rented.

"I've told Ella which one to order. It'll be an overstuffed sleeper with a matching loveseat. The club chairs I liked were on back order, so you're going to have to make do with a couple of recliners. I hate recliners." He shuddered visibly at the thought of comfortable furniture in my living room.

"Ella?" I hadn't gotten my head around the fact that he had ordered almost all new furniture for the living room.

"You didn't think I was going to sew all the curtains and slip covers myself, did you?"

"Of course not." A former gang banger sews and decorates?

"We need to do something with all these books," he said tisking at the contents on my bookshelves.

"It's a bookcase. Books go on the bookcase."

"You only have books on weapons, tools, motorcycles and junk fiction."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Most of them need to go into your office or your shop."

"What's going to go on the shelves?"

"Pictures, knick knacks, souvenirs. Maybe a few books can go on the shelves. You've got to have something personal around here."

"Nothing that's suitable for a public viewing."

"Wedding pictures and the album will have to be placed around this room."

"No way. No wedding pictures. I didn't do it the first time, and I'm not doing it now."

"Okay, a picture of the two of you in the bedroom. But you have to have a photo album in the living room; if you'd been 'married' five years, it wouldn't be obligatory. Women keep that kind of stuff around."

It was official, I lost control of my own house.

~x~x~

I thought the worst of the redecorating was over when the painting started; I didn't think it would carry much beyond that. I was wrong, very wrong. The next day when I showed up, I realized that Hector couldn't color between the lines. What I mean to say is that he got paint not only on walls, but also on the floors, all of the floors.

"How are we going to get the paint out of the carpet?" I asked. "Normally I could cut it out and lay some scrap I've still got, but it won't match anymore."

When I laid carpet several years ago, I bought lot ends. Each room was done in a different color, it was cheaper and I didn't care if things matched or not.

"I want to talk with Stephanie and Ella," Hector said. "Stephanie has some decisions to make with Ella's input."

"You can't talk to Stephanie about this," I said. "She doesn't understand you. Besides, this is my house."

"Even without Ella, she can understand samples and swatches."

"Don't I get a say?"

"_I've seen your say all over this house_. No. Ella and Stephanie will decide with my guidance. Oh, and you need new flooring in the kitchen and bathrooms, too. If there was money in the budget, I'd have your fixtures upgraded, too. But we're on a schedule and you killed the budget by tracking machine oil all over this house. It's a miracle Exxon hasn't started to drill in the office."

"You are leaving the bedroom alone, aren't you?"

He glared, like he had a right to be offended at my style.

"I have plans for your bedroom," he said. He must have seen something in my face because he added quickly, "No, not those kinds of plans. I was thinking of taking it from garage sale hodge podge to something with style."

"The bed stays as is; headboard and footboard, too. No matter what. That bed stays," I said. I'd paid a fortune for the bed and I really liked it. I needed to feel like I still had a little control over my own house.

"Fine. But the rest of the furniture goes once Stephanie approves of the bedspreads and pillows."

"Again with her opinion?"

"Yes. If she gets nothing else from this job, I want to elevate her taste and style. It should be a place she would be proud to live in."

"But she isn't going to live here for any length of time. Hell, she may not even need to stay the night here. I've got no idea how much junk she's going to bring, but I'd like to have at least a little storage space when all is said and done."

If my life came with a soundtrack, I would have heard the sound of the Joker from the Batman movies laughing manically at that moment.

~x~x~

I just downloaded pictures from my most recent surveillance shift. We were all supposed to review the Braun case in the conference room. I was beginning my report to the group when I clicked open the folder, the wrong folder. All our computer files are based on date and then client or skip name. The dates where the same, so I wasn't paying attention until the slideshow started. The pictures were of Stephanie in lingerie, very skimpy, very seductive lingerie. She was striking some incredibly provocative poses.

"Explain," Ranger said.

"I don't know shit about that," I said squinting at the images on the screen. "She looks good though. It's the first time I've ever seen them."

"Anyone?" he asked the room.

The room was full of appreciative glances for the slideshow on display, but each stooge was shaking his head very slowly. Ranger pushed a button on the phone and was connected to Hector. Hector was summoned to the meeting.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"All guys want pictures of their wives or girlfriends in that stuff. These are going to be put on his home computer when I have a few that are more provocative," Hector said. "I've got pictures like that of Estaban. It reminds me how lucky I am."

"You're dating my cousin?" I asked. I knew Estaban was gay, but he kept his own counsel at least about his love life.

"Yeah, problem?" Hector asked.

Ranger refocused the discussion on Stephanie, "How exactly did you get her to pose?"

"They aren't Stephanie. They've got to be Photo-shopped," I said interrupting the interrogation. "Look at the tits, they don't look real, too big. No way those could be hers."

"And just how would you know?" Ranger asked turning his attention back on me.

"Her plastic surgeon and I discussed the possibility of getting them augmented," I said. I really should have kept my mouth shut.

The phone in the conference room rang, normally all calls are held until or unless it is an emergency. That is unless it's Stephanie.

Ranger answered it on speaker, "Manoso."

"Hey, Ranger, it's Steph. Look, we need to talk about birth control pills. Are they something I can expect you to pay for or is it something that should be coming out of my salary for this project? My insurance company doesn't reimburse or give a discount for them. Anyway, I wanted to know if you'd pay for the pills and my co-payment for the doctor's visit to get the script." The words came out in a flood, like she didn't think or breathe between them. If she had, she might not have said so much. I couldn't help but smile. She had no idea she was on speaker or just how upset she was making Ranger.

"Babe, why do you need them?" he asked sinking into a chair covering his eyes with his left hand.

"Duh, I'm supposed to look like the besotted new wife, or whatever, and they tend to use birth control pills. Would you rather me get fitted for a diaphragm to leave at Manny's house? I really hate diaphragms, I used one forever ago with the Dick; they're messy and break the spontaneity and you keep having to put spermicidal jelly in and that just feels gross after a while. But diaphragms are more economical than the sponge even though one sponge is good for multiple sexual encounters in a twenty-four hour period. I don't remember, do they still make the sponge? Anyway, I just kind of figured that birth control pills would be considered standard and Manny can pop one out of the packet every day like I was there taking them. But you guys are the specialists in this deep cover stuff, I'm just trying to make it look real."

"Nieves, honey, this is Manny, you're on speaker," I said casually. "You don't need to worry about birth control pills or other methods of contraception. I had a vasectomy several years ago."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Cool, cause I never remember to go to the pharmacy and now I won't have to worry about stocking condoms either. Um, thanks Manny. Bye Ranger."

After the meeting, Ranger told me to meet him at the mats. I should've expected it; it's how he handles about everything he can't control.

We changed and met in the gym, Bobby was on standby in the event things got bloody.

"She wasn't supposed to be involved in all this. I had planned to take her away with me for a couple of weeks, get back on track with her. Hell, get on track with her for once," he said as he landed his initial blow.

"You probably planned to fuck her as soon as you could, didn't you?' I asked as I connected my fist to his solar plexus. "Still in the planning stage, Manoso?"

"Probably. You're planning to fuck her when your cover is all the way established, aren't you?" he asked attempting a roundhouse kick.

"If I take one for the team, I take one for the team. In my immediate plans, no, I don't plan to fuck her. But I won't rule it out in the future." I said. "I'm not planning to bang her long term if that's what you're worried about. She's too vanilla for my tastes.

"Given her a nickname, too, I hear?"

"Yep, _babe_ was taken. She matches the old images of Snow White. It works and she likes the name Nieves."

He landed his best shot and I went down like a ton of bricks; I hope this helps him get his focus back.

~x~x~

Stephanie packed up two huge suitcases full of clothes and three boxes of shoes and a footlocker worth of 'stuff' to take to my house. The clothes were mostly for this season, predominantly jeans, blouses, some t-shirts, a couple of sweaters and a leather jacket.

"No dresses or skirts?" I asked looking over the piles and peering into the cave of her closet. "What about low cut blouses?"

"I don't wear a lot of dresses, except for fancy occasions," she said, "or distractions."

"Humor me and put a couple of things in, you need to look like you've got some variety."

"Up close and personal they look cheap and slutty. Do you want it to look like you live with a cheap slut?"

I smiled but didn't answer.

When she was done packing, you couldn't tell that a dent had even been made in the closet or in her bathroom. How do women accumulate so much stuff anyway?

I drove her to my place to unpack and clean up some space for her things.

I keep a small medicine cabinet, a few bandages, an extra bar of soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, nail clippers, bottle of Tylenol, razor, shaving cream, Azarro aftershave. I used every shelf and there was a lot of space between things. It was laid out in a practical, easy to get to manner.

By the time she was done with my medicine cabinet, I was relegated to one shelf, the rest was full of her stuff.

Beneath the sink before Stephanie? Cleanser and extra toilet paper. After Stephanie? Cleanser, toilet paper, extra shampoo, two bottles of conditioner, cotton balls, hot rollers, blow dryer, a box of sanitary pads and a box of tampons. The door barely shut after she was done loading it. This is nothing to say for all the things she left in the bathtub, amazing.

"Did you leave anything at the store?"

"Huh? No. I just brought some spares from home. Don't you think it's enough?"

"Just how many creams and lotions do you need?" I asked looking at several bottles that all professed: instant sex appeal, soft/smooth skin, and an end to dry itchy skin.

"One's for my feet, so they aren't all rough and nasty. One's for my hands because they get dry. One's for my body so it feels nice under my clothes. Two're for my face because I have a t-zone."

Well, that explains everything.

We moved into the bedroom. I emptied out the tall dresser while she filled it. I kept my comments to myself about almost everything until she got to her nightgowns.

"Do you really think you need that many?" I asked. "Figured being a newlyweds, we'd sleep in the buff."

"I get cold."

"Some of these don't look very warm."

"I wanted to make sure there was a variety of stuff in the drawers. You know like the underwear drawer doesn't just have thongs and bikini style undies, there're passion killers in there, too. And not all of the bras are all lace, no function. Some of the bras are pretty industrial; sometimes you've got to support what you've got."

Naturally.

"Which side of the bed is yours?" she asked.

"They're both mine. I'm the only one that lives here."

"No. It's for my nightgown. I want to make sure to leave a nightie under the pillow," she looked at me like I'd never lived with a woman before. "Which side do I get to decorate?"

"I sleep further from the door, and leave a gun under that pillow."

"Okay, I'll take the other side," she said as she pulled out a fire engine red baby doll. "I like to read in bed, so I'm going to put a couple of historical novels on the bedside table."

"Just how realistic does this need to look?"

"You're the one who said you wanted it to look real. I'm going to need to hide some chocolate or candy bars in the kitchen, for that time of the month."

"Does that really help?"

"The sugar takes the edge off. Trust me, you don't want to know what happens when my hormones are off and there's no sugar available or just how off my hormones can get if I'm deprived of sugar. It works both ways."

"Thanks for the warning."

By the time Stephanie was done making things look realistic in my closet, bathroom and bedroom I was beginning to consider repurposing my office. I used to have ample, more than ample, storage for my clothes, toiletries, and reading materials. My fifteen hundred square foot home, which is a castle for one, was more than a little cramped for two. Hell of it is, she wasn't even really living here, this was all for show.

"What about the kitchen?" she asked.

"The kitchen doesn't need any feminine touches. The kitchen is just fine."

"I brought a picture to hang. I found it at a thrift store and it's perfect."

"Let's see it."

She pulled out cross-stitched sampler. It had a little vignette of a kitchen, complete with lace on the window curtains. The saying was: Dinner will be served when the smoke detector goes off.

"No. I don't burn food. My kitchen is organized. It stays like it is."

"I'm a lousy cook."

"I've heard. I only do three things to relax. Cooking is one of them and I restore the old bikes."

"And the third?"

I leveled her a look.

"Maybe I don't need to know," she said.

"Good choice."

* * *

as always, thanks for reading and reviewing.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimers: I disclaim them all, but wish I didn't have to.

A/N: Warning for smut minor smut in the beginning (you can skip the first ¼ or so) and the poorly worded sex discussions … Remember, Manny is an adult male and has all of the habits, proclivities, and appetites that come with his gender. He is upfront, frank, and unapologetic for his life and how he chooses to live it.

**Expect the Unexpected 09  
Manny's Story  
By Alfonsina**

We were supposed to have a meet and greet with Chris Russo at the house so he could see my work and further the cover. It was scheduled for late Saturday afternoon, I had to cancel Mimi before hand; I'd forgotten about our regularly scheduled time.

"Mimi, baby, it's Manny," I said into the phone. "I can't make it tonight."

"But I've been so good waiting for you; it's been forever. I need you, please?" she begged.

"I can't get out of it and I don't know when I can reschedule."

"Don't you want to spank my bottom when you have me bent over the sofa?"

"Oh, yeah," I said as I walked the phone back into my bedroom.

"Don't you want to pull on my hair while you fuck me?" she breathed into the phone.

I unzipped my fly and took out my cock. "Mmm. What I really wanted to do tonight was," I said slowly stroking myself.

"Um-hum?" she dragged out every vowel, it went on forever and the longer it went on the stiffer my dick got.

"Fuck your tits and come on your face." I cradled the phone to my ear as I stretched out on the bed, so I could have use of both of my hands.

"Ooooh, I love it when you do that."

"But I can't, not tonight."

"Soon?"

"Yeah baby, soon. I'll call you."

I had just disconnected the call when I heard Stephanie pull into the driveway. She had her own key and let herself in.

"Hey Manny, you home? Hey the place looks really good. Hector and Ella did an amazing job," Stephanie called from the kitchen. The voice was coming closer until it was almost to the bedroom "I came early because I wanted to know if you needed a hand …"

I hadn't closed the door to the bedroom and now the goods were on display. Fine, I had wanted to break the tension before dinner anyway.

"Watch, help or leave," I said beginning to pant. I kind of liked the fact she was a deer stuck in headlights; she couldn't turn away and I wouldn't break eye contact. I wanted to push her limits; hell I wanted to find out where her limits were and she how flexible they might be, this is an easy test.

"Ahh. Obviously you don't need my help."

"I don't know, your assistance would be worthwhile," I said speeding up my strokes.

The stare down continued. It usually doesn't take me long when I'm alone to jack off, but I decided to take my time to see how long she'd watch. I wanted to see if her eyes would darken or if it her breathing would become more ragged; yes to both. Ten minutes later, she was still watching me when I came over my own belly.

"You still want to lend a hand?" I asked getting off the bed and stripping off my shirt. I wadded it up into a ball and shot it into the laundry basket.

"What kind of a hand?" she asked licking her lips, her voice sounded hesitant and dry.

"I need help finishing dinner," I said.

"Why did you do that?" she asked indicating my earlier activity.

"Shine the pole?" I shrugged. "I've got needs and I've been forced to forfeit my other outlets until this job is over. Unless you want to help me deal with my _needs_, live with it. I'm a guy and I masturbate. I'll probably do it while you're around depending on how this job goes."

"Great. Can't you confine it to the bathroom or something?"

"It's my house. You were early. You didn't wait for me to acknowledge you. I was in the right."

She moved her head up and down slowly to acknowledge that she'd heard me.

"If you want me to help you with any pent up frustrations, I'd be most willing. Or I can take you toy shopping. If you let me watch, I'll even buy you a couple of toys."

"No, but thanks. Changing subjects, I brought a German chocolate cake and some ice cream for dessert," she said. "I'll put the ice cream in the freezer."

I grabbed a clean shirt hanging from the door of the closet and said, "Are you sure you won't let me help you pick out something _special_? I've got great taste in toys. Oh and you yourself said that the place needs to look like newlyweds live here. It needs to smell of sex, too. Now it does. What kind of ice cream?"

She shook her head as she walked past me into the kitchen. "Wash your hands," she admonished.

We walked into the kitchen together, I was buttoning my shirt and indicated the crock pot on the counter. "Machaca for dinner tonight after Chris leaves."

"What's that? It smells good."

"It's kind of a spicy, shredded beef. It reminds me of home. If you really want to help, you can help me press out the tortillas or cut the vegetables," I said as I put the ice cream in the freezer on top of the frozen veggies. I made sure she noticed that I washed my hands.

Nothing tastes better than freshly made tortillas. They are sweeter and more delicate than the store bought kind; they also remind me of my grandmother. No meal she presided over ever had store bought tortillas. I still can't think of commercial tortillas as tortillas, I have to think of them as something else in order to eat them. But the real thing, I can eat until there's no masa left to make more.

I pulled three rings from my jeans pocket and handed them to her. "Your wedding set," I said. "You should probably get used to wearing them now. And yes, I know they don't look like much, but these are supposed to be your replacement set, remember?"

She looked at them as she put them on and said, "Three?"

"I talked to a jeweler. She said the trend is to have two eternity bands go on the outside. The one with three stones goes in the middle. Guess you get to be trendy," I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

"OK. Not very practical for bounty hunting. The middle ring will snag on stuff."

"You can put them in your pocket or leave them in your purse when you're working. I thought you were going to be in the office working or working from here until this really hit the ground."

"I was hoping not to do that, but you're probably right. I should work from home and remote my work to Ranger or Alvarez or whoever. By the way, you have nice taste. Thanks for picking them out."

I didn't pick them out, they were part of the deal that Ranger had brokered with the government agency. The rings were complete with tracking devices in the event she got lost or misplaced. We all figured chances were high she might lose one ring, probable she could lose two, doubtful she'd lose three.

"Do you have any knife skills in the kitchen?" I asked knowing that she didn't have other knife skills. Besides, I wanted to side step the fact we were both wearing wedding rings now; at least they weren't a matched set.

"Sort of."

"Good. I need for you to cut up an onion for the salsa," I said moving a box of tissues within easy reach. If you aren't fast or prepared, they can do a number on your tear ducts.

"Salsa comes from a jar."

"Not the good stuff. There are some things you really need to learn about eating."

I showed her the knife block, where I keep the cutting boards, and put a white onion in front of her. "Do your best. Try to get the pieces small and uniform."

"Don't you have a food processor?"

"Preparation is the relaxing part of cooking."

"Oh."

Her attempt to shop the onion looked more like a massacre of the thing, you'd think she never held a knife before.

I stepped behind her and said, "Let me show you."

I put my right hand over hers to change the angle she was holding the knife and aligned the onion. "Move the food into the knife, not the other way around. Less chance for you to get hurt." I took her left hand and curved the fingers into a claw like position. "This is easier, at first it is awkward, but it really does work."

I moved the knife for her a couple of times until she started to get the feeling for what she was doing. I made the mistake of breathing in the scent of her shampoo while she was working; it was clean and crisp. It made me think domestic thoughts I put away years ago, thoughts that made me want a different life.

I took a couple of steps back and said, "When you are done with that, you need to do about six tomatoes."

"Six?"

"Six. You want to eat, you have to help. Didn't you learn to cook when you were growing up?"

"My mother is a perfectionist. I was never good enough to meet her standards. She gave up on me when I was about thirteen or fourteen."

"I'm not a perfectionist, so you're safe."

After she destroyed one of the tomatoes I asked, "How are you at pinching off ping pong ball sized amounts of dough?"

"I can do that. Why?"

"That's how much big the balls need to make the tortillas using a press."

She made several similarly sized balls of dough while I finished the tomatoes, garlic and cilantro. I don't see how she has survived all these years without knowing which side of the knife is sharp.

~x~x~

Chris Russo had been looking forward to a tour of the garage for a couple of weeks; it had been put off until the rest of the house was done. Hector still hadn't gotten to the garage to take down my Burlesque Babes calendar or 'improve my stereo'. I have an old computer and backup drive filled with MP3s of most of the music I've ever purchased or borrowed. I set the thing up several months ago and just let it shuffle. You never know what you're going to hear. Sometimes you get disco, sometimes Patsy Cline, heavy metal, big band, opera has been known to show up, and so has Tejano. I like variety in _all_ things. Besides, I don't always want to expect what the next song is going to be, surprise can be a good thing.

He dawdled and looked over the tools, oils stains, and parts bins.

"You really take this seriously, don't you?" he asked.

"Love of my life," I said. It was my standard answer. Stephanie was standing a little too close to me, and got me in the ribs with her elbow. "Ok, the other love of my life, sorry Nieves." I kissed her on the temple and looked for a way out of the garage.

"How did you get started?" he asked.

"Tell you what, why don't we go inside and talk? If you want to stay for dinner there's more than enough."

That is how I wound up with the youngest son of the syndicate at my dinner table.

"So Stephanie, how did you get so lucky as to marry a man who cooks so well?" Christopher asked.

"Luck of the draw. Actually, I didn't know he liked to cook until recently," she said.

"It was kind of a whirlwind relationship. We're still adjusting to the 'M' word," I said passing a plate of tortillas to Chris. I still have a hard time saying the words married, wife or husband, especially if they apply to my own life.

She smiled and looked down. The less said the better.

"Where was the honeymoon?" he asked.

Stephanie looked at me and then into her wine glass. I reached over and took her hand in mine and said, "It was more important to be married than to have an actual honeymoon. We were kind of in a hurry to be married." God, wasn't that just the truth of it?

"I can help," Chris said.

Stephanie started to say something, but I squeezed her hand, you never know how these things might go.

"How?" I asked flashing a smile at Stephanie.

"We've got a family place in Mexico. It's along the Atlantic, they call it the Mayan Rivera. Every summer a bunch of us go down and just hang out for a couple of weeks. It's just family and friends, no kids."

"The beach?" Stephanie asked. "I love the beach. Won't the others mind? I mean, we only know you."

"Not a problem. I'll get you guys introduced around before we go. Dad's always trying to get me to invite new people, he'll be thrilled when I call him."

Perfect. This is what we've been hoping for but didn't expect to get any time soon. There'd been speculation it could take six months or longer to get invited to the compound.

"Just cover your own airfare down and whatever for incidentals and souvenirs, the food and lodging is on us," Chris said. "We've got a bunch of little casitas and there are some boats we leave at the pier. Since I'm doing this favor for you, I can get a deal on that bike in the garage, can't I?"

"I hadn't really planned on parting with it so soon," I said. I hadn't even ridden it a handful of times yet. "But I think we can work something out."

"Great. Oh, you do have passports, right?"

I nodded. I still had a year left on it before I needed to renew. Since I was traveling as me, there really wasn't any need to change things.

"Mine's still in my maiden name," Stephanie said. "Problem?"

"You haven't changed it yet, honey?" I asked. I knew damned well she didn't even have a passport.

"There's an unspoken year of grace from the time women get married to change everything, you know that."

"Probably everything should match before we leave the country, Nieves," I said smiling. Since she opened that door, now we were going to have to get the paperwork machine rolling at the office. It would have been easier to expedite a passport in her own, legal name. Now we would either need to get a fraudulent marriage license to get a real passport in her assumed name or we were going to secure a fraudulent passport. Why couldn't she have left it alone? Why?

"I'll check with my dad to find out if they've set a date. I'll call you when I know. The more the merrier," he said taking a long drag on his glass of sangria.

~x~x~

"You don't mind if we call it an early night?" I asked Chris around nine o'clock. "Got to be up early for church in the morning."

Stephanie shot me a look. Before she could say or ask anything I said, "Usually we get it over with on Saturday nights."

"No problem. I should be going anyway," he said rising from his chair. "I can see myself out, you two look comfortable."

It really wasn't that comfortable. I had Stephanie sitting on my lap, head on my shoulder. She was trying to do the whole needy female thing and it looked good, but my dick was searching for relief especially when she started squirming to improve her purchase.

After Chris left she launched herself off my lap and went to another part of the sofa. Then she asked, "You were kidding about church, right?"

"No. I go every weekend; some weeks it is the only time I get for peace or contemplation. I usually go to confession first on Saturday to get absolved of the week's many sins, go to church right afterward and then I go and sin again."

"Pass."

"You were raised Catholic, weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"You're going with. It will prove to be important later; this is a religious family we're infiltrating. If they bug things, and they will, they won't bug a church or a chapel. It's best to establish the habit now. Besides, I make killer pancakes after I get home."

She rolled her eyes and said, "It's outside the Burg right? I mean, I don't want to worry about running into my mother or grandmother there."

"Not unless they go to the Spanish services, you'll be just fine."

"Spanish?"

"Yeah, I prefer hearing the mass said in Spanish. Problem?"

"I guess not. I tune it out in English, I can tune it out just as easily in Spanish I guess."

~x~x~

We got the dishes done and the kitchen cleared. Stephanie was getting ready to grab her purse to leave for the night; she'd had a little more wine with dinner and during the cleanup than she realized. I was tired and really didn't want to drive for an hour just to have to play tag team with her car again.

I took the purse from her hands and put it back on the table. Then I walked her into the wall so she couldn't leave easily.

"You're staying," I said quietly into her ear.

"No. I'm going. I can drive myself home, Manny," she said as her ass hit the wall.

"Staying," I said again and then I kissed her with an intensity that left no question what I had in mind. I hadn't intended to kiss her at the beginning of the evening, at least not like this. There had been an entire evening of lingering touches, her sitting on my lap, squirming to get comfortable and looks between us. My control was about gone for the night.

"But you told me a long time ago you aren't an opportunist," she said as she moved her head away. "You also said you weren't that into me."

"That's one of the differences between Ranger and me, Stephanie," I said lips on her neck. "Ranger tells people he's an opportunist. It keeps people, women specifically, off balance. I won't tell anyone I'm an opportunist, but I seldom pass on an opportunity that presents itself to me. _You_ are a definite opportunity."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" she asked. I could tell her head was beginning to clear. Adrenaline can do that.

"Easy, I take things as they come and I make no promises. If I make a promise, it usually has an expiration date on it," I said nibbling on her earlobe.

"Come again?" she asked just as I moved the collar of her shirt over and exposed the top of her shoulder.

"Do you know why I told you I wasn't into you?" I asked as I laced my hand in her hair and began to lick the shell of her ear. "Because _you are exactly my type; everything from the color of your hair to the attitude. You put off such a good girl vibe that I'm convinced you'd be willing to do amazingly bad things._ I need you to know that I want you; but only for the here and now." How much of this was hormones and proximity was anyone's guess; it could also have been the result of too much sangria.

She didn't think about it, she didn't need to. She pushed me back a couple of inches and then slapped me; it wasn't hard and I probably deserved it. Unfortunately it was turning me on, so I pushed my hips into hers.

I grasped the offending hand, pinned it above her head, pinned her lower body with my hips, and said, "Now that you have that out of your system, you will hear me out. I don't believe in monogamy as a long term situation with anyone. However, for now, we are thrown together and I want you to know that if and when we have sex, that's all it is going to be. There is no emotional attachment on my part; if you develop one, you'll need to deal with it on your own time."

She didn't say anything.

"I am not going to promise to be faithful to you when this is over. I am not going to promise not to look at other women or not flirt."

She wiggled herself free and stepped to the side; too bad because I enjoyed the wiggling.

"As to tonight, you're staying. I already took your keys from your purse." She said nothing, just glared, so I went on. "There are two beds available; mine and the sofa. I own the house; therefore, I sleep in my bed. You are invited to sleep on the sofa, it does open out to a bed; it isn't comfortable, but it's a bed. If you decide you want to be more comfortable or warmer and you wander into my bed, I take that as implied consent."

"What is implied consent?" she asked finally raising her eyes to meet mine.

"Plain and simple it means if you get into bed with me, you are willing to fuck. We may not, but you are willing as soon as your ass hits the mattress. If you rub up against me, if you fondle me, or if you touch me in any way, you have escalated the game and you will be on the receiving end. If you opt to stay on the sofa, I won't go in search of you for either warmth or creature comforts. You control where you sleep; once you make a decision, I will honor it.

"And don't slap me again for being honest and upfront with you. I know the pain of being lied to and cheated on which is why we are even having this discussion. The next time you slap me, you are indicating you want to play and play rough. I enjoy it and I can make sure you enjoy that, too."

She continued to glare and squirm. She was keeping quiet which was a huge surprise to me; probably biding her time to bolt out the door.

"Remember, this is an acting gig for both of us. We will need to kiss, touch and appear affectionate in public. I have no problem getting you frustrated and letting you simmer there for days. I can also tell you I can offer you release when you most need it and crave it; but you will beg for it. I don't make promises I won't keep. Decide what you want and how much you want it and we can negotiate."

"Bastard. Let me have my keys."

"No keys, you're staying; it's late. And yeah, I'm a bastard, but at least I'm being honest with you, unlike the other men who've been in your life." My aim was true, it struck straight to her heart.

"Do you believe in monogamy?" she asked.

"Yes, I do when two people are in love," I said.

"We aren't in love."

"No, we aren't and we won't be. I'm not wired for those kinds of emotions." I was a long, long time ago but those wires had been cut. "For now, for the sake of the job, if things get started between us, I'll be monogamous. So you know, I expect the same. I won't share you with anyone for any reason."

"So when this is over?"

"When this is over, the job will be simply a pleasant memory and you go back to your life like it was."

"It won't mean anything to you?"

"No."

"If you were in love, would it?"

"You're begging the question."

"I know. Have you ever been in love?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell me about her?"

"I've already said too much." I started to walk to the living room. "I'll help you pull the sofa bed out and find some sheets and a blanket for it."

"It's supposed to be cold tonight."

"It's an electric blanket."

The next morning I was alone in bed, much to my disappointment. I heard Stephanie making some noise in the living room. I put on a pair of sweats and an undershirt before I wandered into the living room. She was stripping the sheets from the sofa.

I asked "Why don't we leave the sheets on the sofa for the next time?"

"Next time?"

I nodded. I looked into her eyes, they were almost a blue-grey, very cold and stormy. I hadn't seen them quite that color before. Then again, I'd never really looked at them that closely.

"Come on, we need to get to church. It's time to get a move on."

"But I don't have anything nice to wear."

"_My_ closet is _full_ of _your_ clothes. You have something clean that fits, I'm sure of it."

She gave me another dirty look before she headed to the bathroom.

I heard her voice over the shower saying, "I'd rather negotiate sex than go to church."

So, she'd thought about things last night. Maybe she wasn't as far gone as I'd thought. Negotiations, now that sounds like a reason to stay home on a Sunday morning. Better yet, it was going to be time to stack the deck in my favor.

"Hey Nieves," I called through the bathroom door. "You're gonna want to wear pants to church. We're taking the bike out this morning."

Yes, a long bike ride after church on an unimproved road; that'll go a long way toward negotiations.

* * *

A/N: thanks as always for reading and reviewing!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimers: I wish I owned them, but I'll continue to borrow them for a while.

A/N: a little tame, but we are building a relationship, such as it is ...

**Expect the Unexpected 10  
Manny's Story  
by Alf.**

It's been years since I've gone to church with anyone. The mass doesn't change, except for the language and sometimes the music. A lot of the service is automatic pilot for everyone, including the priest. Even though Stephanie avoids church, she attested to it readily, she still has all of the rituals down. She survived and I got my batteries recharged. It is the one hour per week when I can reflect on the greater meaning of life and anything that I have in my heart. I don't have to answer to anyone for that hour; it's my only refuge, my solace.

After it was over instead of heading to the house for pancakes, we stopped by a deli and picked up some sandwiches, a couple of sides, and sodas and hit the road for a long ride.

"Where are we going?"

"My favorite camping spot."

"I _so_ don't do camping," she said. "I do sofas and Motel 6. I don't do nature. Besides, you don't have any gear."

"I didn't say we were staying. It's just some place I think is pretty and think you might enjoy."

I usually don't have anyone on the back of my bike when I ride, I find it a distraction. This morning it was a great distraction; I'd worked the engine to ensure there would be significant rumble for her benefit and frustration. I intend to find where her buttons where and just how to push them.

We rode for the better part of an hour before I pulled off onto a country road. It was another fifteen or so minutes until we got to a pretty spot by a stream.

"So, how do you think it went last night?" she asked as she took off her helmet.

"Pretty well. Ranger will be pleased, but I'm not happy to be letting go of this bike just yet. I'm not bored with her yet." I put the food and on the ground and opened my soda.

"Are all of the bikes 'her'?" she asked.

"Nieves, I only ride females," I said as I took a long drag from my soda. "Sit."

"Good to know. Will Ranger reimburse you whatever you might lose on the bike?" She sat next to me under the shade of an old tree.

"I won't submit a claim to the company for the loss. I bought it for a song, and it's what I do with my free time. I wouldn't fiddle with them if I didn't love it; they are temperamental just like women."

"I'm not temperamental."

"No but judging from the stuff in my bathroom and closet, you're high maintenance." I handed her a sandwich before I took one for myself.

"You don't pay my bills. I haven't inflicted the whole beautification routine on you."

"Yet. That will be changing in as little as a couple of weeks to a month. You do know that when we go down to Mexico we will be in the same space all the time, so I'll be intimately aware of your habits and foibles before we get back." With a little luck we'll be intimate before we leave, less to learn when we're under scrutiny.

"I'll be on my best behavior."

"I'd rather you didn't. I'd rather see you on some of your worst behavior, at least in private." So, it's an old come on, she might still play with it.

"You are a dog, you know that?"

I smiled.

"You can just quit sniffing around, Manuel Ramos." She looked thoughtfully at me and then asked, "What's your middle name anyway?""

"Rafael. Why?"

"When you were a kid, didn't your mom call you by your full name when she was mad at you?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So, I want to be able to use all of your names when I'm mad, just like a real wife would."

That's not what my wife did when she got mad; she'd pack up her shit and leave for days at a time. It didn't matter how long I'd been home from being deployed, she'd get mad as soon as she could and take off. It didn't bother me in the beginning, then I found out about the boyfriend, Andy. Later on I found out about the drinking.

If she didn't want to stay married to someone who was out of the country all of the time, she could have chosen someone else to marry. Andy had a safe job. Andy was a computer programmer for a bank who worked a nine to five. Andy was _white_ and middle class.

Rita had been my high school sweetheart. She knew my background, the fact I was working class and Mexican American should have been no surprise to her. I was exactly like her brothers and father. Maybe that was the problem, I was too familiar.

"You still with me, Manny?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Full name is Manuel Rafael Ramos. What's yours?"

"Stephanie Michele Plum."

"I forgot about the Michele part from the hospital paperwork."

"Yeah."

"Been married before?" she asked.

"Long time ago. You don't need to know anything about it."

"Me too. And the same, but you can ask anyone in the burg about Dickie Orr and they can tell you anything you want to know."

"No thanks."

"Changing subjects, do you come here a lot?" she asked.

"Once in a while when I need to get all the way away from my life."

"Clear your head?"

"Yeah."

"Do you mind if I come here if I need to clear my own head?"

"We both pay taxes to maintain it, feel free."

I scooted up against a tree, stuck my legs out and closed my eyes.

"You know it's going to get intense from here, right?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Do I need to learn any Spanish before I go?"

"You aren't going to be expected to know anything and what you overhear might be hard for you to comprehend and could lead to a lot of misunderstandings. It is probably better that you not know too much except things like please, thank you, husband and bathroom."

"Want to teach me the bad words so I'll know if I should be offended? Or something dirty so I'll know when I can sic you on someone to defend my honor.

I kept my eyes closed. The words or phrases I wanted to teach her might get me slapped again; could be worth it.

"Let's start with one that isn't bad, but you may not want to do it."

She gave me a skeptical look. "Okay. Lay it on me."

"Besame," I said simply.

"And it means?"

"Kiss me," I said leaning in, kissing her gently several times just enough to catch a tiny spark on fire. If this turned into a game of show and tell, I was all for it. There were lots of phrases I'd be willing to teach her if I could demonstrate the meanings.

"How about one that's a little naughty?" she asked after I broke the connection.

"Ok, dame chivos."

"What does that mean?"

"You wanted to know something naughty. That's something naughty. Dame chivos."

"And that means exactly what?"

"Give me a blow job," I said smiling despite myself. She asked. Besides, it was one of my favorite things as well as a great phrase, short and to the point.

"Uh, no. I think you've got your own needs pretty well covered."

"That's a matter of opinion. ¿Quieres coger?"

"That probably means what I think doesn't it?"

"Possibly. It means, do you want to fuck?"

"Like I said, not interested."

"Things change."

"I doubt it."

"Don't underestimate the location, the timing, and the amount of time we'll be alone together."

"You're that irresistible?"

"Some days. Want to find out for yourself?"

"Nah. Shouldn't we get back on the road?"

"Actually, I was going to take a nap for a while. Probably no more than 20 minutes. You may as well get comfortable."

I woke up an hour later and found Stephanie's head on my lap, my hand in her hair. I don't remember the last time someone was comfortable enough to do that with me. It was actually kind of nice, a definite change from the other women who've been in my life recently. The thing that bothered me about it was seeing that ring flashing in the sunlight. It reminded me the charade was about to start.

Drilling her on her cover was going to be next and I really wasn't up to it, but she needed to become Stephanie Ramos 24/7. She needed to know things that would only be learned by living with me, and vice versa. We'd both need to be consistent in what we said about the other and in our physical responses. It was going to have to look natural, the only way to do it was constant contact and togetherness.

"Nieves, we need to get moving," I said running my finger around the shell of her ear. It wasn't dark, but it was a long ride home and I wanted to beat the sun home.

"No, it's nice here. Let's talk."

_Do we have to?_

"Did you go on a honeymoon when you were married before?" she asked.

"Three days in a hotel room after basic before I went to A school," I said.

"What did you do?"

"Think about it, Stephanie. I was nineteen. What about you?"

"We went to Washington, DC for a couple of days. All he did was complain about the cost, the traffic, the noise and the fact that his tax dollars had made it all possible. He thought that anything he wanted to do or see should have been free because of his tax bracket. I should have taken it as a big sign; I missed it."

"Sounds like it would have been a fun trip if you'd left him home."

"Yeah. The bloom was off the rose pretty quickly."

"So, since we're doing a honeymoon now, anything you want to do?" she asked.

I looked down on her, smiled and said nothing.

"Okay, got it. But other than that, we're going to have to do stuff together," she said.

"The first thing you're going to have to do is learn to answer to the name Ramos. It's a decent last name and you're going to have to become Stephanie Ramos fulltime. No matter where you are or what you are doing. I don't care if you are in the john at the house or if you are in the shoe department at Macy's, you need to be Stephanie Ramos and answer to that name."

"Okay. As long as we're here and we're going to have to start acting married, you're going to need a nickname. You've already got one for me. Can I give you one or do you want to pick it out?" she asked lifting her head from my lap.

"No. Neither one."

"Come on. No one gets called by their name all of the time."

"I already have a nickname, it's Manny."

"Yeah, but there's nothing about that that's special between the two of us."

"You're pushing things, Stephanie."

"Haven't you ever noticed that people who date or are married tend to use nicknames?"

"It really hasn't been on my radar."

"This'll be fun, I've never picked out a nickname for anyone. Don't be a party pooper. Let's just see how you react to some of the pet names, OK?"

"Fine."

"Honey?"

I curled my upper lip.

"Sweetie?"

"No."

"Darling?"

"Try again."

She named off several other things including, Boo, Lovie Lumpkins, Schnookie, and Babe.

I declined them all.

"Is there anything in Spanish or that you've heard that would work for you?"

I rolled my eyes; I responded to terms of endearment the same in both languages, with stomach acid.

"Let me think," I said sighing. I closed my eyes and replayed conversations I'd had with Rita before things went south; nothing, there'd been mostly slurs between us for years. My parents referred to each other as Mom and Dad, not romantic at all and there would never be children between Stephanie and me so those didn't work. The idea of Papi or Papi chulo made me nauseous.

I smiled as I opened my eyes. "Cariño."

"What does that mean?" She'd finally decided to sit up and join the rest of the world.

"It's kind of like calling somebody honey, more literally it means affection."

"Okay, I can call you that. But why do you like it so well?"

"That's an embarrassing story," I said. She may as well hear it because it would probably come up in conversation.

"Spill," she said hugging her knees. "I get embarrassed all of the time. I want to see the shoe on the other foot."

"When I was a kid, my grandparents were a big part of our lives. They were around all of the time."

She nodded so I went on.

"My grandmother always called my grandfather Cariño. Until I was eight years old, I thought it was actually his name."

She smiled. "What was his name?"

"Augustin. Anyway, I don't think I ever heard her call him anything else and no one else used it with him either."

"That's sweet. I'll remember it but may bungle the pronunciation."

She probably wouldn't remember to use it unless she was in front of Ranger or one of the guys at the office; that would really ruffle his feathers. Maybe it is a decent choice after all, then again maybe not.

* * *

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimers: they'd be more fun if I owned them, but I'm just borrowing them for now.

A/N: a bit of a bridge ... and yes, you are wondering if and when there will be actual smut ... yes, but not today.

**Expect the Unexpected 11  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

I'd scheduled time with Stephanie to go over some of the little details that she might not have thought about regarding the impending job. Ok, the big detail, safety. I wanted to do it in privacy where we wouldn't be recorded in any manner and where I'd have control of the situation. I don't need adult supervision, sometimes she does. We met at the garage of my house mid-morning.

"Nieves, we need to start to talk about you and self-defense."

"I know a few things."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do, but I don't think they are going to work when we leave. Rolling someone through garbage or waiting until they are stoned isn't going to be practical."

Daggers flew from her eyes; they were stormy but a dark blue this time. I thought blue eyes were always the same. Then again, I never look that closely.

"I want you to look around at everything in the room and see if you can spot anything you can use as a weapon," I said.

She poked around the trays of tools, around the bikes that were covered by tarps, and my work bench. She checked out the heavy bag I have hanging in the corner of the garage and the weighted headless dummy I used for punching and honing some of my skills. The computer switched from AC/DC's Back in Black to Dean Martin's Volare.

"Other than the screw drivers, I'm not seeing much."

I shook my head. Everything, but everything, is a weapon under the best or worst of circumstances. If she opened her eyes she would have seen the bottle of motor oil, the roll of quarters, the rope, a length of chain, even the wine bottle. She missed all of those things and more.

"Do you have any weapons you may have brought with you?" I asked.

"In the bowels of my purse, I might have a gun. No, probably not. Then again, I might have a stun gun but I doubt that it's charged. I didn't think I'd need to bring anything like that with me. Why the quiz?"

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Evidently the gravity of all of this hadn't sunk in yet. She didn't realize that if things went badly, she'd have no weapon, be in a country where she doesn't speak the language, and the cavalry wouldn't be coming.

"Do you know what Krav Maga is?" I love Krav Maga; it is very no holds bar and very non scripted. If it's good enough self defense system for the Israeli fighting forces, it would be good enough for Stephanie Plum.

"No, sounds like something that should be on a dinner menu at an ethnic restaurant. Are we going out for lunch?"

~x~x~

"You're looking old today, Manny," she said attempting to taunt me. It wasn't working, much.

"Not a smart thing to say to an armed man who's going to take you into the woods later today, Stephanie." I was taking her hiking to build her endurance and her ability to walk on uneven surfaces. If you only walk around in a city, you can only walk on flat surfaces comfortably. When you start to hike or even walk in the country, you become more sure footed, more aware of what's around you.

"Probably not. Then again, I don't always make the right choice or say the right thing," she said wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Want to rethink that comment?" I'm getting tired of the age comments from everyone. I glared. I am not old; I'm seasoned, experienced. I am not old.

"Can we pretend I didn't say anything?"

I worked her hard for an hour, including time with some free weights and other instructions. I couldn't let her get too sore or she won't continue and it was vital that she continue training and learning to react like her life depends on it.

"I have cat-like reflexes," she said at one point.

"Only if the cat in question is dead, Stephanie. Again," I said.

She threw another punch, it was the first one she actually landed. She had enough force behind it that I'm going to have to watch my own reflexes for a while. Just then the music on the computer went from Christopher Cross' Sailing to Finger Eleven's Paralyzer.

~x~x~

It turned out that Stephanie made quite the impression on Christopher Russo. He thought she'd make a great friend to his wife, Jeanne. Introductions were made via telephone and a lunch meeting arranged.

Stephanie and I were sitting at the bar waiting for our table to open up so we could discuss developments. We'd made a mutual decision to date each other to so we could be more comfortable when we were together and build a chemistry; even if it was for show. It's strange to go on a date with the woman you are supposedly married to, but it was nice at the same time. We had rules, we knew what they were and we'd been upfront about our expectations. I'd even dragged her to my doctor so we could both be checked and cleared of any sexually transmitted diseases; she wasn't happy about the implications but it was a risk I wasn't going to take for her or anyone.

Right now, she had no expectations about the relationship or how it was progressing. She was still living in her own apartment and was working from the Rangeman office. She spent a couple evenings a week with me to keep up appearances, have dinner and do her laundry. My upside was that she was doing my laundry at the same time and she made a decent dinner companion.

My expectations? The job would go well and I'd go back to my life as soon as possible.

I ordered the usual for each of us, a Corona from the bottle for her, with a glass, and tonic water for me. I like to keep my wits about me.

When the drinks arrived, I opened the bottle and poured out a glass, handed it to her and said, "What? Hasn't anyone ever had good manners in front of you?"

"No, not usually," she said with a shrug. "Normally I fend for myself. I'm good with it."

I shook my head, all women deserve to experience at least a little chivalry. Chivalry should still be alive and well. It's a pity more women aren't exposed to it more often.

"Sorry, I'm old school. I practice the little niceties. You'll get used to it," I said taking a sip from my glass. "So, how was your day today, dear?"

"Smart ass," she said. "I had lunch with Jeanne Russo. I need to get used to signing Stephanie Ramos on credit card receipts, I almost signed Plum."

"What did you find out?" I really don't want her getting too comfortable signing things Ramos; she wouldn't be using it for that long.

"Mostly that she likes to gossip, go to yoga and get deep tissue massages. She doesn't understand her husband's need for a motorcycle."

"Did you explain it to her? We need that sale to happen." The bike was being retrofitted with tracking devices as well as different other recording devices for when Russo took possession of it. The sale now looked tenuous and his wife's objection was a hurdle we hadn't planned on.

"I don't really understand your need for more than one. Just exactly how many can you ride at one time?" she asked blowing a wisp of hair out of here eyes. "Anyway, I _did_ explain it to her in terms she could relate to and understand. I sold her on the togetherness angle and the rumble. She really wants to experience the vibration on some of the older bikes. She's going to reserve judgment until this weekend when he takes her for a long ride out into the country."

"Nice sales tactic. I'll have to remember the female perspective."

She snorted. "Like you could forget the female perspective. Seems like that's all you think about."

"Well, if I can't express appreciation for my _wife_, who can I appreciate?" I asked picking up her hand and playing with the rings on her finger. It's still hard to look at her and realize that people assume that we are married, I have a hard time wrapping my head around it.

"That line's not going to work on me and you know it. Oh, Jeanne wants me to join her yoga class along with a few of the other wives. Evidently the gaggle of women who go on these trips to Mexico are thick as thieves the rest of the year."

"Have you told Ranger that yet?"

"No. I was absorbed in a project when he came back this afternoon. I'll tell him in the morning or I can send him an e-mail later tonight after you take me home."

The wait for the table was interminable; next time I'm making reservations or I'll just cook at home.

"I'm going to the little girl's room," she said. "Be right back."

I pulled her into me for a quick peck on the lips and a light spank on the ass before she headed down the hall. Being perceived as a newlywed without any benefits was wearing thin. I'd decided to take a few, limited benefits where I could find them.

I watched the TV over the bar catching up on the day's news when Barbara spotted me and sat on Stephanie's bar stool. I hadn't seen her in about six months, and her looks took my breath away. Barbara has Swedish looks: blond hair, blue eyes, and flawless skin. She got the bartender's attention and ordered a wine spritzer.

"Haven't seen you around much, Manny. How've you been?" she asked when she acknowledged me.

"Been fine." This isn't what I needed right now, not at all.

"You haven't called."

"I never promised I would."

"Why don't you ditch your date and you and I can play tonight? I've got some new handcuffs I'd like to try out with you."

"Sorry."

"Is she that good?" she asked running her fingers up and down the wine stem. "I could be better."

"It has nothing to do with that."

Just then Stephanie returned and saw that her seat had been taken by someone else.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" purred Barbara.

"Barbara, I'd like to present Stephanie Ramos. Steph this is Barbara Johnson."

"No wonder you won't ditch her. Of course you want to spend the evening with your sister," Barbara said.

Stephanie looked at the woman and then at me. She smiled. "I'm not the sister. Manny uses the word wife when he refers to me. Right, Cariño?" she asked as she kissed my cheek and rested her hand along my neck. She was getting a little brave and ballsy, this could be good.

"You told me you'd never do that again," Barbara said. "You said you had no intentions of ever being married again."

"I didn't have any intention of being married," I said. "Things change."

"You must have the right touch," Barbara said to Stephanie. "What's your secret?"

"I think you could say I was in the right place at the right time," Stephanie said.

"Ramos, party of two. Ramos, your table is ready," announced a voice over the speaker.

I was saved by the public address system.

After we were seated at the booth Stephanie asked, "Do we need to talk about her?"

"No. Believe me, Nieves, you have nothing to worry about. I never was into Barbara." I was into her reactions to toys but not the woman. "I'd forgotten all about her."

"Obviously she didn't forget about you. Just how many women am I going to have to be watching for?"

"Consider it handled."

~x~x~

I'd built a schedule around working her out late in the afternoons. I varied it from weights and resistance to self-defense and awareness. It wasn't every afternoon, but it was most of them. It made the transition into appearing as a couple look more natural. I hadn't had so much time with one person in years and I was starting to enjoy it, a little around the edges anyway.

She had taken to commandeering my bathroom to clean up and change before dinner leaving me to shower in the guest bathroom. I hate the guest bathroom, but now it really does look like two people live here.

I just got out of the shower and hadn't even started to towel my hair dry when I heard a one-sided conversation coming from my bedroom. Great.

"He's not available." Pause. "I see." Pause. "I take it he has your phone number?" Pause. "I'm definitely or something. I'll see that he gets the message."

Stephanie closed the phone just as I dripped water crossing into the bedroom. I don't move as fast in a towel as I did even ten years ago.

"What? It was ringing and it was like the third time coming from the same number. I thought it was something important, so I answered your phone," she said as she finished buttoning her shirt.

"And was it someone from the office or the job?"

"That would be a definite no," she said. "It was a Jennifer calling to reschedule your regular Tuesday since you were a no show last night."

Jealousy, thy name is woman.

She picked up on my thoughts and said, "I'm not jealous of your friend or your standing date for whatever. I am jealous of the fact that I was required to leave my own life behind and I thought you were doing the same."

"Believe me, I am doing the same, she just fell through the cracks. Tell you what, I'll take you somewhere for dinner and it won't be on the expense account," I said looking for a nicer shirt than the one I was going to wear.

"No. You don't need to do that. I'm hungry now and I know there's something in the crock pot that's ready to eat. I want you to live with the same rules I do, if I'm not supposed to have outside contact you shouldn't either."

"I'll fix it." Christ. Just how many more women were going to surface before this was over?

Just that morning I had a meeting with Ranger about Stephanie. It seems like all of my meetings are about Stephanie. We needed her cover to be airtight and away from the Burg.

"There's too much risk having her run around with wedding rings on and we can't risk her taking them off and losing them," I said. There'd been a lot of emphasis on her rings and actually getting her to wear them. If she was in the grocery and got caught anyone might notify her mother and then we'd have a whole passel of shit to fix.

"She'll need to surrender her cell phone," Ranger said. "And we'll have to forward her home phone and the cell here, too."

We both knew she'd be steamed about it.

"We don't have a choice. Her family and friends have no discretion. Even if she keeps up her cover, they'll blow it for her without meaning to."

"What do you recommend?" I asked.

"Let her call them and tell them she'll be out of town on a job and she'll be back in touch when she returns. She can give them the office number for emergencies. We'll run interference for her. We'll contact _you_ if need arises."

"Can you get her a phone that's restricted?"

"Done."

We settled on establishing a phone for her that would only dial or receive calls from Ranger, the office, or me.

The fewer people she was exposed to, the less likely the chance she'd drop her façade.

"Now, we need to determine how we're going to get photos of the compound without a problem," Ranger said. The job was strictly to lay the groundwork for the intergovernmental taskforce, do for them what Google Earth couldn't. We needed to get pictures of the compound layout, piers, locations of guards, the works. If possible, we needed to get pictures of the guards at various times of the day to see if there was a set schedule.

"Why not create someone she can email pictures to during the honeymoon? She could upload pictures to show what a good time she's having. It would also grant her a reason to have a laptop during the trip."

"Nice."

Thinking she could have an old aunt who always wanted to travel but never did provided the camera and memory sticks. It was determined that 'Aunt Susan' would provide the best of cameras and lenses to the untrained and unskilled, favorite niece.

Stephanie was going to learn to take pictures just like my mother always did, no one would have a head and all the people would be out of focus. But in the background the target would be clean and clear. The biggest difference was that it was my mother's natural gift and Stephanie was going to have to acquire it as a skill.

"I'll have her work with Hector," Ranger said.

"Who's going to translate for her, you, me or Lester?" I've taught her how to say arroz con pollo (chicken with rice), but I don't think that's going to help with these hurdles.

"Damn it. Why couldn't she be better with her tongue?" I said nothing, but I wanted to. "I should have sent her to language school a couple of years ago." Ranger raked his fingers through his hair. "Nothing with her is ever easy."

"Does it have to be someone from the company who translates?"

"Not necessarily. Who do you have in mind?"

"How about Estaban? He's Hector's current boy toy and he's fluent in both languages." Besides, it was a new relationship and Estaban was looking for any reason to spend more time with Hector, even if there was a chaperon.

"That'd work. We'll pay him for two weeks time off from the restaurant and will provide someone to cover his shifts."

* * *

thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... and yes, I promise the temperature will be going up soon ... just not yet.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimers are the same as always, but a girl can dream.

**Expect the Unexpected 12  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

"So Stephanie, how are you with spreadsheets?" I asked staring at the computer not wanting to contemplate the book end of a business.

The mortgage funding was pending approval but I'd already incorporated the business. Looks like I'm going to make my hobby pay for itself one way or another.

"I do numbers pretty well, especially if they have dollar signs in front of them. Spreadsheets can tell stories, if you know how to set them up they can be a pretty easy review the past and forecast your future. Why?"

"I want to start to track things for the cover. I know you do details pretty well and I'd like to know if you can help me set some stuff in Excel. Besides, if you do it you'll sound more like you're part of the process. There'll be less pesky questions about you and your freelance career. Did you ever say what you freelanced as?"

"Personal shopper."

"Stayed close to the truth then?"

"Yep. Less to remember."

We made lists of things to track and how the spreadsheets should flow. Ultimately it became a rather large Access database where we could query things, make projections, invoices, and create mailers. Had I known going into business for myself was so much work, I might have worked on a different cover.

~x~x~

Hector was beyond excited at the prospect of Stephanie working directly with me because it meant that he could modify the office to add space for Stephanie's desk and work space. It also meant that the only room he hadn't had his paint can in was the 'man cave'. He was even making plans for a flower garden in the back and some bushes along my limited walk way. I hope that he plans to take care of them himself, I don't have time for horticulture.

"Dark green," he said.

"Burgundy," I said.

We went back and forth over the color choice for the office until Stephanie happened into the house.

"What's up?" she asked after she kissed us both on the cheek.

"Trying to come up with a color to paint the office. No way I can take any more neutral colored walls," I said.

"What's wrong with the blue on the walls now? It's pretty and it's restful."

The office was painted a robin's egg blue with white trim. It was a pretty enough color, but for all the shelves of books and gadgets, you really couldn't see it very clearly.

Hector ran his hands through his hair and said, "Have I taught her nothing?"

"What'd he say?" she asked.

"He's pleased to know you've learned so much about color since this project started."

Hector opened his mouth and shut it. He counted to cinco; I cheated and read his lips. "Fine but the furniture has to go."

No problem. I bought my desk and shelves from a used office furniture place and just never got around to replacing them. The desk was big, ugly and the color of Silly Putty. My chair was in such bad shape, I used a pillow from the bedroom to sit on when I worked on the computer; I didn't log much computer time here, just at Rangeman.

"Sure. Pick out whatever you want." I said it in both languages. "I'm sure whatever you get will be just great."

Hector's eyes grew large and he rushed out of the house to his vehicle. He pulled out a file folder with several pictures he could use as samples. He'd point and she'd agree or disagree. Finally they went to a couple of stores and test drove some furniture. She had to call to get the measurements of the room to make sure that the desk would actually fit.

Shopping was done in less than two hours. Delivery was scheduled for the next day.

"That didn't take long. Why was it so fast?" I'd been enjoying my alone time.

"Easy, it wasn't underwear."

"Excuse me?"

"There's less to worry about with furniture than with underwear."

I gestured with my hand so that she would continue.

She blew out a sigh and looked at me like I was an idiot who hadn't ever seen a Victoria's Secret catalog. "With underwear you have to worry about VPL, dental floss that will leave scars, and g-strings that crawl."

I shook my head. There's no way underwear can be this complicated.

"Look. Underwear has to fit or it creeps. If your bra is wrong things sag prematurely. Or things get squished and flattened and that's not a good look on anyone. Besides, your office won't be changing sizes. The room is the same size today as it will be tomorrow and the next day."

"What?"

"Water weight. You don't have to worry about a monthly five pound weight gain and whether or not the desk will still fit the room."

I closed my eyes and drummed my fingers across my forehead. She was giving me a headache, no doubt about it.

"If you were female you'd understand. Anyway, the room won't be flexing and changing so whatever size desks and chairs we get now will continue to work and fit over time."

"Thanks for going with Hector alone." It was easier to pretend that some of this made sense.

"Oh, we weren't alone. Estaban is out by the car and he wants to talk to you."

~x~x~

"Carnal (buddy), you owe me," Estaban said. He took a deep breath and the rant began. "She's boring, uptight, and talks all of the time. You knew she wasn't what I imagined. You could have said something."

I raised my hand trying to get his attention and failed.

"No. She was my muse, my inspiration. She had a magical swish in her walk and men would come to her like moths to a flame. They were all intrigued," he went on. "Now I'll never have a writing career. And you are the one who ruined my new career by having me spend time with her."

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. Evidently they could survive an afternoon together but barely. He was going to charge Ranger even more than his regular salary if I can't talk him down.

"She's boring. Not just boring, but white bread boring. Couldn't you have warned me? I would have worn ear plugs." Evidently a dead muse caused diarrhea of the mouth in my cousin.

"I don't…"

He held his hand out in the classic 'stop' sign. "You've ruined my life."

"Estaban, she and I don't talk that much. We do other things," I said. Right now we weren't doing anything except exchange the odd kiss, but he didn't need to know that a damsel hadn't fallen for my charms. We worked her cover, we worked out, we hiked and trained her weapons skills, and now we shared dinner almost every night.

"I don't want to know about your sex life," he said.

"We're agreed. I don't want to know about yours either."

"Hey, are you going to do the Mayan ruins while you're there?"

"Lots of stairs. Probably not. She takes the elevator to go the one flight to her apartment."

"You could probably get her to use a stair climber."

"You're kidding. It'll become another surface for her to drape clothes. She already controls almost every surface and in the house and she doesn't even live here."

"Hey, when are you going to teach her enough Spanish to talk to Hector on a limited basis?" Estaban asked.

"Wasn't planning on it," I said.

"Can you at least hook her on a novella?"

"Why?"

"So we will have something to talk about. We could talk about which guys we think are hot or whose makeup is overdone. It'd be better than listening to her try to explain something. She makes my head hurt."

"She can make mine hurt, too. Fine. I'll put the TV to the Spanish channel tonight and we'll watch whatever the prime time soap is currently running."

Famous last words. She didn't really care but after two episodes I found myself looking forward to finding out what was happening to the cast of characters.

Two nights later she asked, "Manny, I'm going to go to the grocery store. Want to come?"

I grunted and turned my attention back to the TV. Why couldn't she have waited to talk to me until the commercial? Hell, now I was considering buying a DVR so it could record the novella while we were out of the country.

'That's just pathetic, man,' I told myself. "Wait up, Steph. I'll go with you."

~x~x~

"How do I look in this?" she called from the bedroom.

I stepped out from the kitchen to look at her as she emerged to the living room. Tight tank top, sans bra, and low slung pants, yep yoga had come to live in my house.

"Don't you have enough clothes for yoga?" I asked. "There's only one man in your class and he's gay. Who are you trying to impress?" Under my breath I added, "Haven't you taken up enough of my closet space with this stuff?"

"But everyone else was buying something new when class got out. It isn't like I'm paying for it," she said retreating into the bedroom.

"The money for your yoga outfit is coming out of the cost to do the job, Stephanie. Take it back. You're cutting into the company's profits."

The lower the profits on the job, the lower my final bonus. I have plans for that money.

It isn't like I'm being mean, but she's already got ten outfits for yoga and she only goes three days per week and then she spends most of her time at the boutique and juice bar. It took me two hours to convince her to do one hour of self defense practice here and it took a contractual requirement to get her on the Rangeman firing range three times per week. Maybe I should give her a clothing allowance to work on her awareness skills. Never mind, there's not enough money in the world and where would the bribes end?

She called, "You're right. I need to quit giving in to peer pressure. I'll pay for it myself."

Before I went back into the kitchen I said, "Dinner's in fifteen minutes. You need to make the salad and set the table."

Actually I don't need her to do anything in the kitchen, but the goal of having her work in there is threefold. First, she looks more domesticated and might just get a few skills for when she's home alone again. Second, she needs to get good with a knife, it's part of her training. She still shies away from the Cold Steel or Kershaw knives I carry and use daily, but a weapon is a weapon and she needs to know how to handle them safely. Finally, I may enjoy cooking for myself but I haven't been hired to be her personal chef; I don't take requests and I don't work on demand.

She came out of the bedroom tugging a green t-shirt over her head. "The girls are starting to buy clothes for the trip. Jeanne said there's only one place she likes to buy the best bikinis, unless you trust me to go into the city and look. She said I'll need at least three and matching sarongs. Is that too many?"

"Depends on how they look. Let me go shopping with you, to ensure the right fit, and we can negotiate for more."

"Oh, I was going to tell you, we have increased from five couples to seven. I guess the little compound takes up to ten couples."

"Do you have names?"

"Of course I got the names, Sandra and David. Oh yeah and there's Claudia and Theo."

"Last names, Stephanie? Affiliations maybe?"

"Wouldn't you rather talk about bikinis or sexy underwear?"

"Yeah, but that has nothing to do with what we need to prepare for the trip?"

"Yeah, but I might wear those on the trip."

"You've got my attention. Want to let me prove it?"

"No, no proof necessary. Manuel Ramos, you are a horny old dog."

"Horny, yes. Dog, yes. Old, no. Admit it, you enjoy baiting me. Come on you need to cut the mushrooms and cucumbers."

"Yes, sir."

"Wait a minute, that's my favorite shirt. Take it off and put on one of your own."

"Can't we consider it community property?"

"New Jersey isn't a community property state," I said. "Besides we aren't married."

"How long until this arrangement is common law?"

I must have had a horrified look on my face because she said, "Kidding, just kidding. Jeesh. We don't have common law marriage here. I'll go change to one of my shirts."

"You need to increase yoga to five days a week to pump up the intel since that's where these women like to talk. Since those outfits are kind of skimpy do you want a digital recorder in your purse?" I called across the house.

~x~x~

"It's time."

The only time I've heard that is on TV when a woman goes into labor.

"Time for what, exactly?"

"I need to move in," she said three nights later when we were watching the old James Bond movie, For Your Eyes Only.

I almost dropped the bowl of popcorn between us. "Excuse me?" I spluttered.

"Jeanne and Marie, Jeanne's sister, want to come by and see the house. Evidently they drop in on each other a lot, usually for coffee in the mornings. They like to start their days early."

"Just how early is early?" I asked.

"Before real people get up, they like to drop in on each other no later than 7:30. Somehow they think I might be a morning person. God, are they wrong about that."

"I take it we'll need to stock up on coffee for you?" I prefer Earl Grey tea, but sometimes coffee is a better choice.

"Yeah, and we should probably get a timer for your coffee pot," she said.

"Because?"

"Because that way it will be ready when I get up in the morning, no matter how rough a night I've had."

"I'll let you pick up the kind of coffee you want and the timer. Don't forget to give me the receipts."

I thought I'd been doing pretty well sharing my space with her on a limited basis. I wasn't ready to give up more of my freedoms. I'd been good and hadn't dipped my tip in anyone's, and I do mean anyone's, ink well, but I didn't want to have temptation move in with me, not unless she was ready to really move in.

I made a mental list and decided that before she could move in, in any capacity, I had some chores to do. I was going to have to lock up the black book off site. If more than one woman was in the house, it might just surface if any of them were nosy. I'd need to centralize the firearms and ammo, no more leaving one out here and another out there. Too much liability if someone got nosy. I was going to have to make certain the key to the man cave was well hidden, and I was going to have to replace the shower massagers in both bathrooms with standard shower heads. She seemed pretty uptight about the idea of sex toys, we'd talked about it once briefly. The shower massager was her toy of choice but I wasn't going to provide her gratification if I couldn't get my own easily. If things were going to be hard for me, well, you get my meaning.

TBC …

* * *

A/N: thanks as always for reading/reviewing. shall we say next week everything changes?


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: sames as always - not taking responsibility for any keyboards or monitors which may be ruined in the reading of this chapter.**

**A/N: the heat goes all the way to high this chapter … warning for smut**

**Expect the Unexpected 13  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

On balance living with Stephanie was going better than I expected. It wasn't easy, no woman is easy to live with, but we spelled out the rules and worked out several systems.

We had systems for almost everything: who cooked and who washed the dishes, I cooked, she cleaned; who controlled the remote at night, we alternated; who used which bathroom. Since I kept use of my bedroom and she was in the living room, she now had her grooming products both places.

The biggest adjustment for me was all of the coffee. She's addicted to coffee with those fancy creamer/flavor things and she pushed her addiction on me. I never needed either coffee or tea to wake up in the morning, now I can hardly make a coherent sentence before eight o'clock without the stuff. Even more pathetic was I liked my coffee the way she fixed it; I never got it quite right when I did it myself.

I was even getting used to the fact I no longer had closet or drawer space. Things were definitely more crowded but there was no way to deny that two people lived here together.

I've been working her self defense skills and her fitness pretty hard, with the yoga added on top of it, she's gotten really sore. The lack of a shower massager coupled with a relatively small hot water tank made her unhappy; my house, my rules. I'll change the hot water heater eventually but only because it is fifteen years old, not because she likes 45 minute showers. She tried to do that once and had conditioner in her hair for two hours while the tank heated more water. I had to take a cold shower that night because _someone_ thought all the hot water in the house is for her.

~x~x~

After living with me and sleeping on the sofa nightly for nearly three weeks, it happened. At two o'clock in the morning I felt the bed dip. She'd finally given up on the sleeper sofa and, if nothing else, she was looking for a more comfortable place to sleep.

"Stephanie is everything okay? Do you need anything?" I mumbled. "I can get you some Advil if you need it."

"You weren't supposed to know I was here," she said in a whisper. "You haven't noticed before."

"Excuse me?" I'm not a light sleeper, no way I would have missed her getting into bed. "Just exactly how many times have you gotten in bed with me?" I asked now very much awake.

"Usually just a couple of hours every night or so. That sofa is lumpy. You should invest in an air mattress. Pretend I'm not here."

I rolled onto my side facing away from her and wondered if I needed to get my ears checked. I've had weeks to think about this moment and how I would respond if I found her in my bed. The things I wanted to do to her and the ways I wanted to do them were the focal point in my fantasy life. I couldn't even take a shower anymore without needing to jack off, especially if I used 'our' bathroom which now smelled of her all of the time.

When I woke a little later, her head was on my shoulder, her hair was in my nose, and she was making a noise that sounded like a sigh. I made my decision.

Normally I don't take the time to experience everything a woman's body has to offer or discover her secrets. Then again, most of the women I slept with looked the same, sounded the same and felt the same; it wasn't about exploration or long term. Sex was all but anonymous with them, down to the position I preferred; normally it was the woman on top facing away. It gave them the illusion of control and it kept it impersonal for me and it relieved me of talking or making eye contact. Basically it was no fuss, hassle free sex for me; but it was like Chinese food, it always left me wanting something more.

"Who am I?" I asked her quietly. I needed to know that she knew who she was with and I planned to get her consent every step of the way.

"Hmmm. Mmmm anny."

"Very good," I said as I kissed her forehead and rolled her onto her back. "Do you remember what the rules are now that you've gotten into my bed?"

She sighed and blew out, "Yes." It was long and exaggerated, she sounded like she was still somewhere between sleep and being awake.

"Good," I said as I nuzzled her neck and buried my nose in her hair. She'd changed to a lavender shampoo recently, something about the healing benefits of certain flowers. She was going to buy the matching body lotion when I'd pointed out that she already had three bottles of body lotion in just one of the bathrooms.

"Mmmm."

I kissed my way across her shoulder taking in the scent of the fabric softener on her tank top. I need to adjust the washer, it wasn't rinsing enough of the fabric softener or detergent out, the scent was too strong.

I began to lightly run my hands down the right side of her body catching the hem of the fabric between my fingers.

"Stephanie, what's the most important rule?" I asked moving the fabric up her torso oh so slowly.

"No one else. Just you. Only you," she said sleepily. "Kiss me?"

I placed my lips against hers running my fingers up her rib cage avoiding her breasts but grazing the swell of them. "Off," I said bunching the fabric so it could slide over her head.

She raised up and helped me remove the shirt and collapsed instantly back against the pillows. She attached her lips to mine and began to kiss with a hunger I'd not experienced from her before. The little kisses we'd been sharing had been mostly to establish a look of intimacy. This kiss was uninhibited and unapologetic.

I've known women who fake orgasms to _get it over with_. I had no intention of letting her fake anything tonight. It was going to be a slow torture for both of us. I remembered something about divided loyalties from playing sports in high school, play both ends against the middle; wear down resistance and then go in for the kill. I never strategized sex before, a first time for literally everything.

I began working my way down her left side, very slowly touching, kissing, and licking everything. Well, almost everything, I toyed with her breast but shunned the nipple. She had her right hand in my hair and her other on my shoulder; she tried to nudge my head closer to what she wanted. I moved my head away and headed for her hip.

"Are you still with me, Stephanie?" I asked when I was near her belly button.

"Oh yeah," she breathed.

I slowly laid open kisses across her pelvis, when I got to the center, she tried to push my head where she needed it.

"Good things come to those who wait," I said as I headed for the other hip.

"Do I have to wait?" she asked in a moan.

"Absolutely."

"Why?"

"It'll be worth it," I said as I sucked above her hipbone. "I promise."

I returned to her bellybutton and french kissed it for several long moments. I treated her navel like I was planning to treat other things, no sense in rushing was there?

"Lower, please?" she asked again trying to direct my head.

I continued to kiss the bellybutton until she released me. "Say my name and maybe I'll do something else you'll like."

By the time she let out my name in a slow hiss, I'd moved up her torso to her right breast.

"Very good," I said as I took her right nipple into my mouth and gave it my undivided attention.

Her hips had been moving some almost the entire time, but now the cadence was becoming harder and faster. She let out a long moan.

Settled over her body I kissed her deeply. "Do you want more?" I asked.

She nodded and tried to move my right hand down to her sex.

"Ah ah, my rules. You already agreed," I said. "You okay?"

"No. I need for you to touch me. I need to come. I feel like I'm on fire and I'm going to be consumed by the flames. I'm dying."

"I'll see what I can do about that," I said as I began moving down the center of her body. I did stop to pay homage to the left nipple; couldn't leave it deprived.

I rubbed my face over her torso like a cat. I wanted to experience the softness, the smell, the flavor of all of her and I was taking my time about it despite the moaned protestations. This time when I got near paradise, I said, "Lift," as I pulled her panties down and subsequently off. As long as I was off the bed, I took the time to liberate myself of my boxer briefs. I prefer to sleep in the raw, but as long as Stephanie was on my sofa, I saw her more as a guest and didn't want to make her uncomfortable in the middle of the night.

With my fingers and my mouth, I took my time exploring everything about her. I did everything possible for her I could, except get her off. I didn't want to. I needed to possess her completely when she came. I wanted her to beg me to allow her to come.

When she was bucking and squirming I knew it was almost time.

"Manny, please? Please? Please? Please?"

She was finally pleading with me. Now maybe I can stop thinking about box scores or bullet trajectories to keep things at bay.

"If you don't help me," she said moving her hand down to her clitoris, "I'll have to help myself."

I took her hand in mine, crawled up her body and kissed her hard. "I think you are ready for the main event now. Say please."

"For God's sake."

"Not God, baby, it's Manny."

"Please Manny…" She would have said more and begun complaining, so I silenced her words with my mouth. I really had pushed her patience as far as I could.

I nudged her legs further apart and began the slow process of sheathing myself inside her. She was so hot she was practically molten and she was much tighter than any of my recent partners. God it felt good.

"More," she panted. "You can't hold back on me now."

"I'm not holding back, Stephanie, I'm taking my time."

"I'm going to die before I get to come." Her hands moved from my shoulders down my back to my rear. She pushed until I was completely inside of her. So she can take the initiative once in a while, good to know. It was also good to know that she was now awake enough to know exactly who she was having sex with.

"You won't die," I said pinning her hands over her head. "Do you like deeper or harder better?"

"Yes to both," she said.

She'd been meeting each thrust with a counter of her own. Each time I tried to withdraw even a little, her muscles clamped down on me in an attempt to keep me where she wanted me.

"Good," I said increasing the speed and the force.

She was making my favorite sounds now, the ones I'd been tormented with at the chiropractor's office. Except now she was making them for me and she was fully aware it was for me.

"Do you want to come?" I rasped.

"Oh God yes."

I began multi-tasking in earnest. I didn't let down the pace but I began to rub her in all the right places.

"Close, so close," she panted.

I clamped my lips down over her right nipple and sucked as hard as I could while keeping up the efforts of both my fingers and my cock. She shuddered and shook while she called my name.

I released her nipple and put my lips to her ear, "Better?"

"Oh yeah, soooooooooo much better," she said, "thank you."

I continued thrusting as long as I could. This was the first time in a long time I looked into someone's eyes when I came, it heightened the experience for me in ways I'd forgotten.

After my body calmed I rolled off of her. "Are you okay, Stephanie?"

"Yeah, a little sticky though. It's been years since I've been with a man who wasn't using a condom."

I went to the bathroom, ran some hot water and got a washcloth to clean her up. I cleaned myself up a little as well. "Do you want something to drink?" I asked as I headed back to the bed.

"I'll get it," she said.

"I'm up," I said. "Water all right?"

She nodded and accepted the wet washcloth from me. She'd used it and hung it over the edge of the bathtub by the time I returned.

"Do you want me to go back to the sofa now?" she asked.

"What do you think?" I asked pushing her back down into the pillows.

"Good."

"Go back to sleep, Nieves," I said with a yawn.

She began scrounging around the bed searching for I don't know exactly what. After about thirty seconds, I had to ask, "What are you looking for?"

"My PJs," she said.

"I'll keep you warm."

She put her head on my chest and settled down. Her breathing evened out almost immediately.

For all the years I've kept sex impersonal, I've just done everything I could to make this a personal experience for both of us. What the fuck have I done?

* * *

A/N: now the question becomes and will remain: who will be able to keep a distance when this is over?

thanks as always for reading and reviewing!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimers: Having fun, profit will have to wait until I create a world of my own.

A/N: Smut in bottom quarter of so of chapter ... Manny is realizing he is out of his depth without floaties, but doesn't want anyone else to know that, least of all himself.

**Expect the Unexpected 14  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

As soon as we started to sleep together, our relationship morphed yet again. There was still the work on the cover, on the business, and on just how much room she could take up in my house, and there was now a limit on how much I would work out with her. Before things became sexual, she could aim a blow and land it. Now she worried about hurting me. When I wrestled with her before, she struggled and tried to get away, now she tried to seduce me; it usually worked.

I made the executive decision to have someone else train her on self-defense. Zero agreed to come work with her at the house on Monday, Wednesday and Friday; we didn't want to create too much traffic and Zero spent some time sorting equipment bins in the garage. That Zero had an old Triumph of his own didn't hurt and he had a good eye for paint schemes. Why doesn't anyone just want a high gloss black anymore?

Zero asked what my goals were in training her and he set out a regimen to meet my goals as well as his own. He taught her moves and maneuvers to keep her safe, things I'd wanted and I even begun to teach her. It bothered me that I couldn't keep myself distanced from her anymore; I couldn't stand the idea of her getting in over her head if it was avoidable.

If I'd ask her what she'd learned from Zero, she'd demonstrate and we'd wind up fucking where we stood, fell or sat. In three weeks time, there wasn't a surface or room in the house that we hadn't christened; her imagination was better than I'd hoped and her yoga classes were good for lots of reasons.

I thought I'd miss having multiple partners to have variety, looks like the right woman can be willing and responsive. Probably best that she has an expiration date.

~x~x~

Stephanie knew all of the wives of the syndicate. She had developed a very predictable schedule with them. Yoga and the juice bar several times a week; several afternoons a week a group of them would go shopping. My closet wasn't going to take a whole lot more of Stephanie and shopping. I boxed most of my out of season clothes and stored them in the garage. When this started, I had use of both sides of a walk in closet, I was down to less than half of one side.

We brokered a deal to get her to work on her stamina, the only way I'd listen to her tell the stories was if she was using exercise equipment. Stephanie is all about motivation, so I heard all about the kids, problems with school and husbands who forgot anniversaries. Stephanie was able to side step all of those conversations since 1) we hadn't had an anniversary and 2) there'd been no birthdays since we'd been 'married'. In addition to her learning more about the interactions of the people, her endurance went up substantially.

She was getting ingrained in their little society, but I still wasn't meeting enough of the husbands. Unfortunately the men weren't connecting with me the way I wanted them to; it was mostly Chris and he'd talk about custom paint jobs versus traditional. It was leading me nowhere, except to the sale of my baby.

Stephanie wanted to have a few couples over at a time for dinner, but that would take forever and the men wouldn't necessarily feel free to talk. We decided she'd float the idea of a couple of get togethers where all the couples would be able to meet before the trip.

Ultimately, there was only one date when everyone was able to clear their calendars; it was a Saturday. I thought it was too close to launch date, but not everyone works on my schedule. If Stephanie worked on my schedule, we'd be further along in everything by now.

We threw a little party and were ensured everyone who was supposed to be part of the Mexico trip would be in attendance. Chris made it compulsory, then again, I dropped the price of his ride by five percent with promises of potential other discounts. The group tried to rent a room in a restaurant, but I wanted control and this way we could 'show off' the house. Hector and I easily bugged my house, porch, and garage. we probably did too thorough a job of it.

Hector and Estaban came over to help set things up. Hector still didn't think the house was done. At least not to his electronic tastes. The only _stereo_ I had was in the garage and it wasn't high tech or good quality; he and Estaban were evidently audiophiles. The two improvised an intercom system so that at least the computerized music from the garage could play in the living room, master bedroom, porch, yard, and the garage. Hector brought over a new to me harddrive that he had loaded with mood music for the night. I scanned it and was horrified. It was a tribute to Barry Manilow. What really disturbed me was that I recognized most of the songs. He did grace me with other music; it was Yanni.

"Barry Manilow?" I asked. "You've got to be kidding."

"I didn't think you liked the Puma," Hector said. "I was going to give you several of his classics to put you in the mood. I'm giving you Dan Fogelberg, too."

"My favorites. Wait, who's the Puma?"

"Jose Luis Rodriguez, he had great hair back in the day. He was hot."

"That's exactly how I make my musical choices. Hair. Do you have a thing for 80s hair bands? Never mind, I don't want to know."

"We aren't having another discussion about your taste," Hector said he said with a wave of his hand. "How is the missus adjusting?"

"You know damned well she isn't now and isn't ever going to be the missus."

He ignored my comment and continued with his would be rant. "She changed out _my_ sofa. She was supposed to ask me before she changed things, doesn't she know that? Didn't you tell her that? I had your house perfectly staged. It was picture worthy."

"I changed the sofa out; it took too much room. I thought a loveseat would be a much better choice. And yes it was perfectly staged but it didn't feel like me. End of discussion. How are the appetizers coming, Estaban?" I called into the kitchen. I had the sofa switched for the loveseat the morning after I found Stephanie in my bed. I took away her sleeping options and I didn't care; besides she didn't even notice.

"I tried to talk some sense into him, explain that not everyone has the same taste he does. But he wants to get his own reality decorating show and he's developing his portfolio working on your place," Estaban said walking out of the kitchen. "Isn't he so cute?"

"I'm glad you are into each other, but Hector does nothing for me. Do you need some help?"

"It's all under control," Estaban said. "Just setting up trays of nibbles for you to heat up."

Stephanie had been barricaded in the bedroom for about two hours before she came out. She was done in basic black but very little of it. Oh sure, the slacks were long enough, but they were very low rise. The shirt was low in the front and it exposed the majority of her back and a portion of her midriff. The garment draped incredibly well but there was no hiding anything from anyone's imagination. Her hair was pulled away from her face and softened somehow, the look was intriguing.

She came out of the room barefooted and looking for her purse. "I'll be back soon," she said. "I don't have the right shoes for this outfit."

"No one is going to notice your shoes," I said backing her into the bedroom and closing the door. "All I know is that _you_ don't have enough clothes on."

"No. We agreed on the look for tonight. You wanted a sexy look that didn't display too much skin. This does that, sort of. But for this outfit to really work, I need different shoes. I've got the right pair in the bottom of my closet at home. It won't take me more than an hour to go, get the shoes and be back." In her heels she's about 5'10" and since I'm 5'11" it made for a great kissing height, no neck strain the next day; maybe the shoes are a good idea.

"I'll send Estaban for your shoes," I said kissing her neck. "I've got better uses for that hour."

"We don't have time, do we? Never mind, they'll all know. Everyone can always tell, with me that is." Her ears turned as red as her fingernails.

"What I have in mind will take at least two hours, so you're safe for now." I ran my hands up the exposed skin of her back to see if I could get her to shiver a little, I could and she did. "Besides, with as little as five minutes, I can change your mind set and we both know how much fun we can have in five minutes. It could be as good or better than it was this morning."

"Oh God." She gulped and tried to get past me.

"No, no. You don't get away that easily." I breathed the words into her ear. "You really do have something to do for the next hour. I want you to see if you can spot any of the bugs."

"Okay I'll let you know what I find."

"Oh and Nieves?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, a little less sexy, okay?"

"But this isn't that …"

"It is, believe me, it is." To prove my point, I placed her hand over my erection. "You're making it hard for me to think."

"In that case, take a cold shower," she said pulling her hand back. "I've got to tell Estaban how to find the shoes and give him my keys." She licked her lips, looked me up and down, and headed for the door. "Excuse me."

I took her advice and took the cold shower. It didn't help much; I had to choke the chicken anyway. She'd dropped some of her inhibitions, which was good, but sex a couple of times a day still wasn't quite enough for me to slake my appetite for her.

Since she'd dressed to play up the contrast of her pale skin to the dark outfit, I did the same. Cream colored linen shirt and pants contrasting with my dark skin and hair. Okay, most of the hair is still dark, the streaks of grey are starting to get on my nerves a little.

The cameras wouldn't go live for another forty-five minutes; it was almost show time. I've given up a lot for this job; now I'd abdicated my privacy. It had to be done, the cover with Stephanie was working but I can't wait until I get everyone and everything out of my house.

~x~x~

Most of the evening was spent with her in the house talking to the women and me in the garage showing my handiwork off to the men. There was some intermingling but not as much as I would have liked.

"How long have you restored bikes?" David asked.

"I've been mechanical my whole life. I just like to keep my hands busy," I said. I dissembled all of the major appliances in my parents' house before I was seven. By the time I was ten I was an unwitting apprentice to Raymond the guy who owned the local repair shop; I think I was paying off my parents' bill by providing child labor to the shop. I'll never know. I did learn a lot, got good with my hands and developed skills that I used the rest of my life.

There was banter about the various bikes, specifically how I was customizing more than actually restoring. There was a lot of discussion about dream bikes and fantasy bikes from when we were kids. All bikes were fantasies when I was a kid, maybe that's why I am so attached to them.

"So why customizing?" Theo asked.

"Less rules," I said.

"He hates to follow the rules," Stephanie said leading a throng of women into the garage. "He likes to make things up as he goes along." I wanted to kill her. "You know when you customize, you don't have to worry about what the designer originally intended; you can make it more your own, you know?"

"Smart woman," Theo said. "How do you know so much? Has he customized one for you yet?"

"Nah. These are his babies, I'm lucky to ride behind him," she said nonchalantly. She moved to stand behind me and put her arms around my waist. "Cariño, I just wanted to see if any of you want a beer or something else to drink?"

"I'm fine," I said looking at the group. "Fellas, any one up for something else to drink?"

There were a couple of takers, so I left them in the garage, filled their drink orders and delivered them along with a tray of finger food.

"Gentlemen and ladies, if you'd like to poke around for a while, feel free. I haven't danced with Stephanie all night and I'd like to take her on a tour of the back porch."

I went back to the house, found her and led her to the back porch.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Dance with me," I said drawing her into my arms. Chuck Mangione's Feels So Good had just started. It wasn't a very slow song, but it was a good one to hold her close and just move slowly.

"Why?" she asked resting her head against mine.

"I'm leaving them alone in the garage to see what they'll talk about if we aren't there to supervise."

"Nice. You do know I don't know how to dance formally, right?"

"You can sway, right? I already know you've a sense of rhythm and timing."

She blushed furiously, it was actually very cute. "That wasn't very nice," she said trying to hide her face in my shoulder. "You're trying to off balance me and it's working."

"It's all true," I said. "We have an audience. Time to look and act like a newlywed; kiss me."

She lifted her face from my shoulder and kissed my neck instead. "I don't want a big public display; I've never liked them."

"Deal with it, it's expected right now," I said kissing her several times very lightly. The song changed to Pedro Infante's La Gloria Eres Tu. I found myself whispering the words to her, I would have sung them but it takes considerable alcohol to get me to sing.

"What's that song? It's pretty."

"It's an old song and the whole Latin world has covered it; it's a classic. La gloria eres tu pretty much means you the glory."

"I thought Hector was sticking to English songs for tonight," she said rubbing her face on my shoulder.

"I picked out some Spanish oldies, trying to get in the mood and back in touch with my roots before we leave."

"Did you speak much Spanish at home?" she asked as the song ended and another Latin standard came on.

"Yeah, but it wasn't formal or necessarily correct. Shhhh. No more talking. Before you ask, this song is Tino Rossi's rendition of Besame Mucho, another classic. So you know, it means 'kiss me a lot'."

It occurred to me that everything significant in my life had actually been in Spanish before I moved to Trenton to start over. Family events, church, my own wedding, sex, all of it had been in Spanish or Spanglish. I spoke Spanish with Rita because she wanted me to keep up my skills. I resented that she forced the issue, so ultimately we even fought in Spanish. All of the divorce proceedings were conducted in English, it flipped a mental switch for me.

My personality is different in Spanish, I use a lot of slang and I'm not as guarded. Frankly, I talk too much when I use Spanish. Since this whole job started, I've noticed myself falling into it more and more often around the house. My taste in music was shifting, I returned to the comfort foods from childhood. Even when we had sex, I'd say things to Stephanie in Spanish, mostly that I wanted her and the things I wanted to do to her. She recognized some of the phrases and responded appropriately.

At around 10:30 various people made their excuses, Chris made a point of telling them that we attended church regularly and we needed to be up early for mass. I would have kept everyone there as long as possible to see just how much their tongues would have loosened.

"It isn't like there won't be a later service," I said.

"No. We respect you for attending, it's something we are trying to get back into ourselves," Chris said for the group. "My dad is old school and has been riding my ass to get back into the church. You know traditional Catholic families, big on kids, obligations and guilt."

I nodded.

"I'll call you next week and we can talk about a really custom job, if you're up to a big challenge," he said as he put a wrap over his wife's shoulder.

"I look forward to it."

We walked them all out and waved as they pulled out of the drive.

"Let's get this place tidied up, Hector will come unglued if he sees a mess in _his_ house," she said picking up glasses. "This isn't so bad." She began loading the dishwasher. "It shouldn't take more than an hour or so to get things back into shape."

"The dishes will keep," I said. "Let's go to bed."

"Cariño, are you alright?" she asked putting her hand against my cheek rubbing it gently with her thumb.

"Go on to the bedroom, I'll be there after I shut down the house," I said as I picked up my phone. I dialed the control room. "Kill the bugs at the Ramos residence," I said to Zero when he answered.

"Dude, is the party already over? You guys don't know how to have a good time. You used to be more fun."

"They're all gone and I'm going to bed." I yawned into the phone for emphasis. "This isn't about fun, this was a job. Remember?"

"But you've still got like three hours on the clock for this job."

"Yeah and party's over. Never mind. I'll just call Hector and have him do the shut down, but you know how he gets when you bother him at home." I was short, terse, and tired. Mostly I just wanted the cameras off and a semblance of my privacy and my life restored.

"You wouldn't, would you?" Despite the fact Hector was currently channeling the designer from one of those cable programs, Christopher Lowell, most of the guys still had a very healthy respect for Hector and the teardrop tattoo.

"You bet your ass I would. Shut them down now. There's nothing else to be learned tonight. I'll call Tank and have him send everyone home."

"Nah, man, I'll do it. You coming in tomorrow to watch to the recordings?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, probably around 10:30 or 11:00."

~x~x~

Stephanie changed into the red baby doll nightgown, had gotten into her side of the bed, and looked expectant.

"You look unhappy. Don't you think things went well tonight?" she asked.

"Things went fine. I just don't like having my privacy invaded by all the cameras. It's fine when it's for the job, but I hate not being able to control who turns them on and who turns them off and when especially in my own house."

"So we aren't going to, you know?"

"As long as there's the remotest of possibilities that it could be recorded in any way, shape or form, no."

"Thank you." She sounded disappointed and I know I was. It had been a tense evening and it ratcheted up a couple of notches knowing that virtually everything was being recorded. Sex is a great way to relieve the stress and the tension, but no way in hell was I making any kind of porno for the guys at the office to watch.

I cut the lights, took off my clothes, kissed the medallion around my neck and got into bed. I couldn't get comfortable on my back, my stomach or my side, either side. By nature I'm not a restless sleeper, it usually takes me 90 seconds to be out for the night.

"Get on your stomach," said the sleepy voice. "I'm going to rub your back to get you to sleep."

"I'm fine, you don't need to do that," I said. I rolled over anyway.

"Hush," she said straddling my back. "This will make you feel better. I'm actually decent with my hands."

She rubbed away the tension and anxiety from the day. In fairly short order my own breathing had evened out and I was on the edge of sleep.

She kissed the back of my neck before got back onto her own side of the bed. "Sweet dreams, Manny."

"Don't sleep so far away from me," I grumbled as I moved next to her. I seldom crave the closeness, but for some reason this night I did. "Night, Nieves."

We hadn't been sleeping in the same bed that long, but my body sought hers out nightly. If I woke up and I wasn't touching her somewhere, I felt like a little boy in search of a stuffed toy and I'd look until I found it again.

~x~x~

I never remember my dreams, and the few I do have are very surreal kind of quality like a Frida Kahlo painting. Those dreams have vivid color, can be very graphic and just go from image to image. The dream that woke me was nothing like that. It was a dream of sound and sensation; it was highly erotic because I recognized both the sounds and sensations as being provided by Stephanie sucking me.

I groaned, shifted and tried to reposition myself so I could better enjoy the dream. I moved my hand down to my groin only to discover a head; Stephanie's head.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I caught her head in my hand and looked at her until she opened her eyes.

"If you don't know, I need more practice." She began her assault on my cock again. She has an amazingly talented mouth. If she wants to practice, no problem; I'm grateful she likes to keep her skills current.

She realized I was close, and kissed her way up my body before suddenly straddling my hips and facing away from me.

"You don't mind if we do it this way, do you?" she asked. "I've only done it this way a couple of times and it feels just amazing."

Actually, I did mind. For all the years I'd avoided looking at someone's face during the moment of truth, I'd been looking into hers regularly. I was jealous of the damned door.

~x~x~

Sometime later, I'd gathered my wits enough to ask about it. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought that on? I didn't think we wanted anything like this caught on tape," I said. I was going to have to make certain that everything was deactivated in the house before morning and I just wanted to stay where I was. Maybe I should wake up Hector and owe him a big favor instead.

"I know, but I couldn't sleep and you were _really, really_ hard." She bit her bottom lip and wouldn't look me in the eye. "Sorry."

"Do you really get that horny, Nieves?"

"Oh God, yeah. It's part of the curse," she said.

"Curse?"

"A couple of days before my period, my hormones go nuts and I become like a teenage boy. I'm due to start my period in about three days."

"I have no problem helping your with your _situation_. What will I need to do?" I was a Boy Scout once upon a time, I'm still a helpful guy when need be.

"I'm good for right now, thanks."

"Anything else we should talk about?"

"You know how we've been having sex twice a day lately?" she asked now suddenly shy. In reality it was more like three or four times a day, but if she wanted to think of it as twice, I'm good with that.

"Uh-huh."

"Never mind."

"I'm awake, just tell me."

"Fine," she said as she blew hair off her forehead. "I'm going to NEED sex in the morning and at night."

"That doesn't changing anything. We're already doing that."

"You interrupted," she said nipping my shoulder.

"Fine. I'll shut up."

"I'm also going to need it after work, before dinner. Sex after dinner will be optional depending on how heavy dinner sits. And of course, there will be something in the middle of the night."

"That's five times a day."

"Yeah."

"Right now I'm really glad you don't like toys."

"Yeah, well, take your vitamins. Oh and when I'm ovulating you'll have about three more days like this."

"So I'm a slave to your hormones?"

"Yeah. You could think of it that way."

"Works for me."

* * *

A/N: thanks for celebrating Manny Monday with me! Thanks as always for reading and reviewing! Next week the plot will move forward (some).


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimers - they all apply, just like always.

A/N: a little short, but this actually has to do with plot and moving them forward in this little universe. Happy Manny Monday to all, especially Tiina, Katbaby, and Marilyn.

I've been told by some that they wanted a visual aid to 'know' my version of Manny ...

http: // www. youtube. com / watch?v=h8VY89qxeGU (ff . net doesn't like links ... so you get the idea)

**Expect the Unexpected 15  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

The videos of the party were dull to say the least except when Stephanie and I were gone from the garage. Some days you live for excitement, some days you pray for boredom; today I wanted some answers to find out just how exciting my life might just become.

"_What's with the FNG?" David Romano asked. David was evidently married to Marie, Chris' sister-in-law. David had a roofing company and pool service. Interesting that the time of year when the business would have the most business, he was going to take at least one week to go to Mexico. _

"What's an FNG?" Stephanie asked.

"Fucking New Guy," Zero said smiling into his coffee. "Bet it's been years since you've been called that, huh?"

"Well, to them, I'm a loose cannon, and unknown quantity," I said hating Zero and his ageist comments at the moment. "They'd be stupid to take me at face value."

"_If Joe trusts him and Chris likes him, it means that John automatically accepts him. Face it, he's going to be part of the trip," Barney said. _Barney was evidently David's second_. "At least he's got a hot wife. Did you see the ass on her? I'd love to take a bite out of that thing."_

Stephanie looked at me and said, "Is this how you guys actually talk when no one's listening?"

"Sometimes, Steph," Zero answered for me. I think he was trying to maintain marital bliss on my behalf. This was nothing compared to what Zero had been known to say about women he was merely speculating about.

"I don't want to know what you guys say about me when I'm not in the room," she said.

"That'll go a long way to maintaining your sanity," Zero said.

"So I get discussed? Never mind, don't tell me. But really? I get discussed?"

"Ladies, we were supposed to listen to the tapes and figure out who does what, remember?" I asked the pair of them.

She said, "I need some air and fresh coffee. I'll be right back. And yes, Cariño, before you ask I'll bring you a cup. Zero you want a fresh cup?" She brushed her hand across my shoulders as she left her chair. It was one of those habits married people have and they aren't aware of that we'd practiced to the point it was now a reflex for her. Initially, I'd flinch because it felt territorial, but now it felt natural. All the things that had caused me to flinch or cringe were now just part of daily life. It no longer bothered me to see her dirty laundry in the hamper, or her diet sodas taking up space in the fridge. I did have a problem when I'd find chocolate bars hidden all over the kitchen, she was evidently a junkie.

Zero shook his head and waited for her to leave the room. "What's with Cariño? Sounds kind of lovey-dovey to me. You don't do lovey-dovey," he said.

"I know. It's supposed to be a part of the whole newlywed experience. It was her idea, she thought it would sound more convincing. Some days it's just as easy to go along as to get along, you know?"

"Yeah right. Oh before she gets back, I wanted to let you know that I cut all the bugs in the house after you called last night. Well, all but one. I didn't realize you'd bugged your own bedroom, man, that's ballsy. Nice camera angle."

"Fuck."

"Yes. Yes, you did. And obviously it wasn't the first time either. Don't worry, I found that file first and killed it before anyone else could watch, after I made an archival copy for you."

"Bastard."

"No. I'm just kidding, no copy anywhere. I know you didn't want something like that recorded. Even though what I saw was pretty damned hot. Just tell me, does she wake you up like that a lot?"

"Zero, do you want to die before the morning is over?"

"Lighten up. I deleted the file and the automated backup." He handed me a flash drive and said, "Enjoy it by yourself or with someone you love."

"Right."

Stephanie returned to the monitoring station with three cups of coffee. She handed Zero his and said, "No cream, no sugar, right?" He nodded. Then she placed a mug that had a lipstick impression on in front of me, "I already sweetened yours for you; it tastes right."

"Thanks," I said realizing that this was part of the cover that felt natural at home and in public, but not at work.

The fact that Zero was watching us act like a couple wasn't helping things. He was never really a big fan of the whole 'loose lips sink ships' school of thought and he was capable of not just starting rumors but feeding the flames. He enjoying himself far too much for my taste.

Stephanie took a long sip of her coffee, looked at the monitor, and asked, "Do you guys really need me for this?"

"Yes, we do. You have the back stories on these guys and that might help make sense of things." I'm going to kill Zero, once I check out the file the next time she's at yoga class.

So Zero and I found out that David's wife thought he hung the moon just for her and that he had a strong business; it ran itself. Barney was married to Dottie and they owned a coffee bar, it gave him a lot of free time in the afternoons to play cards or whatever with the guys. Albie ran a linen service, his first wife left him for someone ten years younger and fifty pounds thinner; the second time around he married a baker, Mandy, they both looked like the Pillsbury dough-boy.

There was discussion about Joe Lipari's ability to smell a fraud and how he had John Russo's ear; though brothers-in-law, they were best of friends. Joe liked me because I didn't overblow myself or my relationship with Stephanie. He liked her because for less than $2000 he was able to pay for repairs to Big Blue, turns out the car in cherry condition was worth in excess of $30,000. That she looked like his youngest daughter, Jeri, was a bonus.

When Stephanie found out that the bane of her existence would be worth something in cherry condition all but made her fall out of her chair.

I also found out that there was moderate interest in my bikes; not much but some.

Before we left, Zero took Stephanie aside and said, "There was something interesting on last night, I burned you a copy." He handed her a DVD labeled Travel Chanel Mexican Beaches. He winked at me and blew me a kiss. For his sake, that had better be what was on the DVD.

~x~x~

"Yes." Pause. "Yes." Pause. "Yes." "I'll call you before I come home." "Yes." "Yes." "Yes." I ended the phone call and powered down my phone. I lowered my head to my chest, rubbed my face, and closed my eyes. I even blew out a sigh; nothing in life is free. Even though I was being paid, and quite well for this job, the price was exacted in having to act like the loving, caring, even doting husband. Thinking about that made me nauseous.

"Stephanie?" Zero asked. He was helping me compile lists of vendors for bike parts, additional manuals, and photos for paint job samples.

"Oh yeah. I don't know how married guys do it."

"Everything OK?"

"It'll all be fine. Some days this just feels like a prison sentence and it won't be commuted any time soon, if indeed ever."

"Welcome to the word of marital bliss, I'll be your tour guide," he said. Zero had three failed marriages in under a decade, which proves he can romance a woman, convince her that he's the one, and then bail if and when things get difficult. If he smiled any bigger, I'd have to knock a couple of his teeth in. "After a couple of years, you won't notice the mood swings and the clothes that magically appear in the closet."

"Oh, hell no. This is a job and there's an end date to it. I'm going to get my life back, it's in the contract."

The whole domestic scene with Stephanie had a very surreal quality about it; it made me realize I'd missed certain parts of married life and not others. I think the worst of it was dealing with her cycle now that it was here. The whole, 'the world has come to an end because I'm bloated,' speech I could do without. This was nothing compared to the 'do I look fat in this outfit' question that came up five times in less than two days; there's no way to answer that without getting it wrong. The cramps and nausea that went with a woman's period I'd missed like a trip to the proctologist. The only upside was the fact she doesn't mind having sex even when she has her period. Okay, so I'm not a big fan on providing oral when any woman is bleeding. I've got my redwings and if I have to do it, I will; I'd just rather use other skills and talents first.

"We need to finish with the inventory and finalize the mortgage papers," he said. "How much do you want to hold in reserves?"

Zero was helping me to further my cover by having his brother-in-law's bank provide me a small home equity mortgage on my house; I have significant collateral which helps in a tight lending market. I wasn't going to tap into the money, the purpose was for show in the event I was closely scrutinized. I'd changed my story, now I was going to work fulltime for myself doing customized bikes and some classic car work.

Setting up shop from my home office gave me an excuse to be home, to purchase more tools, equipment, paint, electronics of all varieties, in addition to standard engine parts. Plus it would help increase the conversations around bikes and all things mechanical in the event I got together with any of the men before the trip began.

* * *

A/N: Thanks as always for reading and reviewing ... we are actually going to move more than just the relationship forward, I promise.... kisses, Alf.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimers: we all know the song - she gets the glory and we get the fun.

A/N: Minor smut mid section - if you look, you'll find it. If not, you might just pass it by. Remember, Manny is not going to pass an opportunity that is easily presented to him.

**Expect the Unexpected 16  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

After an afternoon of shopping with the girls in Princeton, Stephanie got us invited to John and Maris' home for dinner with Chris and his wife. Even though Chris made his own money, Daddy still wanted to check out his possible investments. Let the scrutiny begin on all sides.

Stephanie was dressed in a very sedate royal blue, wrap-style dress and medium height heels. The dress did great things for her figure, it clung but not too tightly. It was sexy, enticing even, without putting the goods on display; her sense of style was shifting, had Hector taken her shopping for clothes too?

Since I'm still trying to get her accustomed to the idea that everything is a weapon, I acquired a mother of pearl necklace to add another layer to that awareness. The necklace was handmade and knotted individually between beads, it measured 60" in total length; she had it going around her neck three times tonight. The knotting gave the piece a look of class and craftsmanship; in actuality, it was knotted to give it strength and there was piano wire built into the piece. In the event, God forbid, she needs to strangle someone or restrain an individual loosely, she has a method to do so. I didn't tell her that I'd altered the clasp so it could be used for audio monitoring, just in case.

I wore a white shirt, khaki pants, a navy sports jacket and a solitary gold hoop in my left ear. The earring was a substitute for the one I normally wear; it looked identical but was just a little heavier. The new earring had a bug built in for emergency monitoring; it wasn't supposed to be turned on unless things became dire. I'd recently acquired a Casio G-Shock that I'd altered so it had a tracking device in it. I normally don't wear a watch, I've got a leather band I wear on my left wrist and have for years. It looks tatty and I only take it off on rare occasions, tonight was a night to leave it off and look a little more polished.

I believe in having redundant equipment. You never know when something will short out, a battery will die, or when water will corrode things. For the dinner, we both wore wires, more for documentation purposes than for anything else.

We took two bottles of wine; one red the other white. They were middle of the road quality and vintage, acceptable and very drinkable. I don't drink much so I took Caesar's recommendation, he sees himself as a connoisseur.

The house was surprisingly normal. I don't know what I was expecting. It was very traditional, and upscale, but nothing about it screamed 'look at me'. Then again if you are hiding things, it's best to do it in plain sight. It wasn't the largest house on the block and it wasn't the flashiest. It was well kept and the yard well manicured, very tailored looking for the lack of a better description.

We held hands as we walked up the walkway. Stephanie looked incredibly nervous.

"I feel like I'm about to meet the parents," she said. "Except I'm not."

"You're going to be just fine. Just be yourself." I kissed her for luck before I rang the doorbell.

John Russo opened the door to us. He dressed like Geppetto from Pinocchio, the white hair, half glasses and a vest in place of a jacket. His wife, Maris, stood behind him and reminded me of Donna Reed; very pulled together and very classic. Based on her figure, you'd never know she was the mother of five and grandmother of twelve.

We adjourned to the living room to have cocktails before dinner was served. Chris and his wife were already there, looking bored as usual.

There were attempts to make small talk that would engage everyone, but Chris was resolute in his silence. When his wife tried to say anything, she looked to him for permission before speaking. Was she afraid of her husband or of saying something she shouldn't. Didn't she realize that she'd already aired most of her dirty laundry in front of Stephanie and had been for weeks?

When we finally went to the dining room, John tried again to make small talk over dinner. The meal itself wasn't memorable, but it was well done. John must have been a member of Toast Masters, he picked a topic and expected me to expound on it. My topic was, "Do you have a slogan or a motto you live by?"

"Love is a choice, not an obligation," I said. I've been obligated to do a lot of things in my day, most of them distasteful. I like to be responsible for my own choices, in every regard.

"Sometimes love comes when you least expect it," John said.

Yes, and when it shows up unintentionally, it is usually in the form of an unwanted, at least unplanned, pregnancy and then love is an obligation for everyone involved.

I'd danced around the subject as best I could and spoke in generalities.

"I think love is the reverse of money," Stephanie said taking the focus off me. She'd noticed me flounder and had come to my rescue.

John inclined his head indicating that she needed to continue her explanation.

"It's easy. The more love you give away and lavish on other people, the more you receive. I know that the more I give away, the more I have," she said.

Maris beamed and smiled at her husband. "I feel the same way. It's what I always tried to teach my sons. I think they missed the message," she said.

Ever the good host, John spoke on the same subject. His motto was "Winter always turns to spring."

"Is that kind of like, 'it's always darkest before the dawn'?" Stephanie asked. I didn't want to have a lot of attention placed on me, she was doing a good job of absorbing the spotlight without appearing to be intentionally asking for it.

"Exactly. No matter how long you think you are frozen, cold, and in the dark, light, warmth and life will eventually return. It always does, sometimes it just sneaks up on us," he said.

"I've never really adjusted to winter," I said. "Some days I wonder why I ever left Texas." It was time to re-engage in the conversation.

"What brought you here?" John asked. "We aren't exactly in the sunbelt."

"True. For personal reasons, I decided I needed a change. This was as big a change as I could make short of moving to Alaska."

"Each winter is harder for Maris, that's why we wound up with the place in Mexico. It's a place to regroup but also avoid the day to day distractions of life and business here. We go at least twice a year; sometimes more."

"I don't even know what your business is," I said.

"I import and export of luxury items."

"Anything I'd know about?"

"Manny don't pry. I'm sure we couldn't afford his luxury items. Not while we're trying to get the business off the ground," Stephanie said.

"You might be able to afford some of the wine and tequila we private label. We sell to only the best restaurants in the Northeast."

He referenced the brand name of the tequila and I recognized it. My father used to buy it at the border for a song. The tequila tasted like rot gut and had a reputation for being great paint remover. I knew nothing of the wine.

"I don't know it personally," I said. "But I remember hearing about it years ago."

John went on. "I bought the rights to the name and have done extensive upgrades to the distillery. It hasn't had a good reputation for years, but we're getting there at little at a time."

I nodded.

"It is kind of like what you do with some motorcycles," he said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Some of the names that are popular now, had incredible reputations once upon a time, the reputation suffered and now it's like a Phoenix and trying to rise again."

"Good analogy. I hope you don't mind if I use it, do you?"

The conversation changed completely to motorcycles and vintage cars at that point. John preferred the idea of cars, he loved the old woodies but never owned one. He bought the first car he ever drove a 1965 Chevy Bel Air station wagon.

"Why?" his son asked. Chris acted like he had no idea about any of his father's interests or hobbies.

"I learned how to drive on it," he said slapping Chris on the back of the head, "you know that." He turned his attention back to me. "I even bought it from my dad when I was old enough."

"Original parts and pure pedigree, very impressive," I said with a low whistle.

"Do you want to see it?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Go on, get out of here," Maris said. "It's in the garage. Stephanie and I will clear and set up for dessert while you are all outside. Besides, the dessert wine you brought will need to breathe for a few minutes anyway."

~x~x~

The garage was everything I thought it should be; it was opulent in its own way. It was clear that it was the testosterone center of the property. There was a refrigerator full of bottled and canned drinks. An elaborate phone system, exotic stereo and entertainment center.

"Looks like all you're missing is a bed and a bathroom and you could live out here," I said.

"He does when Mom is mad at him," Chris said.

John glared at his son. "The last time was three years ago, I had to buy her a little something to make it up to her."

"Yeah, if you call a four carat diamond little," Chris said. "I hope I never get Jeanne that mad. I'll have to take out an additional mortgage to get back into her good graces."

"Look Manny, you seem like a nice guy. If you want to stay married, don't go to bed angry and don't let her slip away. She's sweet and sincere," John said.

"I have no plans on letting her slip away." I have no plans to keep her either.

"I know you haven't been married that long, but you need to continue to romance her," John said pulling a card from his wallet. "Here's a card for my florist. My family gets a discount. Tell them John Russo gave you their card."

Now my house is going to be inspected for flowers, too. I hate the idea of having things die before my eyes. Maybe they've got small house plants.

"Back to the business at hand," John said. "What do you think of my baby?"

"She's beautiful. Who did the restoration?" I asked.

We talked for several hours. He agreed to come to the garage to review my work in the next week. He wanted to see how I worked and the projects I had in progress.

When we finally headed back to the house, Jeanne was asleep in the chair and John's wife had headed to bed. Stephanie was curled into a ball on the sofa. I looked at my watch and was stunned to see that it was already 2:30. Where had the time gone?

I gently shook her shoulder to wake her. "Nieves, honey, it's time to go. It's later than I thought."

She grumbled and glared at first, realized where she was and immediately got up.

Chris covered his wife with an afghan and got onto the sofa. "No point in leaving. Looks like we're all going to church together in the morning." He looked at his father.

"Good night gentlemen," I said. "I look forward to having you drop in next week, John."

"Take care of her. She's a keeper."

"I'll do my best," I said as I put my arm around Stephanie's waist to guide her out of the living room and to the front of the house.

She slept all the way home. All I could do was think of the state of the garage, my knowledge, and how I might be able to become even more useful.

I didn't turn on any of the lights when I opened the house. I led her by the hand to the bedroom. We undressed and fell into bed. I curved my body into hers. I didn't attempt to start anything. I was tired and she looked this side of comatose.

She began to rock her hips back into me. After about two minutes I was hard, but she was breathing as though she were asleep again. I inched my body away so the frustration could dissipate.

"Please?" she murmured.

"You're tired. Let's just go to sleep."

"I always sleep better after and I don't want you frustrated all night," she said moving against me again. She raised her leg so it was on top of mine. "But if you don't want to, we don't have to."

"It's not that. Sometimes we can just sleep," I said. I have no idea where that voice came from or the sentiment.

She reached back between us and gave me a squeeze. Evidently her hormones didn't care how tired she was. I tested the waters a little to make sure she was as ready as she thought she was before I made my entry.

"God, that's so good," she breathed, "but keep it slow, please. I'm not in a rush, are you?"

I moved my fingers to stroke her and increase her pleasure.

"Not tonight," she said moving my hand away. "This is what I want and need tonight." She wiggled against me a little more for emphasis. "Just like this."

It was a long slow fuck that was incredibly complete on its own. It was like a well cooked steak, it needed no additional adornments to be right. When it was over, I moved her leg so she wouldn't get cramped.

"That was perfect," she said as she sighed.

Neither of us moved again until the alarm went off and then we repeated the performance.

Sex had changed things between us, added a whole new level to the cover. Sex made us believable. One of the things I really liked about her was that she didn't see sex as a chore. Right now, the very regular sex was about availability as much as anything else. Her appetite for sex, variety, and pleasure in multiple forms was so well matched to mine, it unnerved me a little.

~x~x~

Since we were supposedly newly married, I knew that the guys monitoring the room at Russo's would expect to hear a regular exchange of 'I love you' between the two of us. Before we left, we agreed that we wouldn't travel that particular path, it might lead to a transference of emotions and all kinds of complications I wasn't up for.

We talked about the phrases 'te quiero' which I told her meant no more than 'I want you' and '¿me quieres?' which can mean 'do you want me?' Okay, so I played a little fast and loose with the translations, but if it was about want, I could get behind that completely and evidenced from the amount of time we'd been spending in bed, she wanted me fairly often, too.

Te quiero became part of our banter. It was easier to build into conversations and into sex. It became natural. Hell, I was only telling her that I wanted her sexually, truthfully, yes I did, and often. When I discovered she'd had belly dancing lessons a couple of years ago and she had an amazing ability to gyrate, my need went up incrementally. I was even telling her that right before my own climax.

Instinct takes over when I'm with her. My brain isn't actively engaged much of the time. It's kind of like listening to a song on the radio where you think you know the lyrics and you decide to sing along and it flows whether or not you actually know the words.

~x~x~

Four days before we left for Mexico, Maris wanted to have us to lunch. It seems that she and Stephanie had talked about _everything_ while I'd been in the garage with her husband and now she wanted her husband to know something specific.

"What church were you married in?" Maris asked Stephanie. "I love weddings, I should have been a wedding planner. I want the details."

"The First Methodist Church," Stephanie said.

"I thought you were both Catholic."

"We are."

"But why weren't you married in the Church?" John asked.

"We can't be," Stephanie said.

"Why?"

"I was married in the church the first time. He and I divorced." Thank God she said nothing about my prior marriage, I wasn't going to explain that to anyone.

"He didn't want an annulment?" John asked.

"It never crossed Dickie's mind and until recently, I was in no danger of ever remarrying so it wasn't something I'd spent a lot of time thinking about. Manny and I did use a church, just not the Catholic one," she said. "A friend did the service."

She said it plainly, simply and split hairs with amazing accuracy when needed. The attention was on her not on me, as it should be.

"Manuel, why didn't you push? Wasn't it important to you?" John asked.

"No. Being with Stephanie has been something I wouldn't trade. Besides, God knows the truth about how things are between us," I said as I rubbed my thumb across her knuckles.

"Well, I'd like to assist you in obtaining an annulment. I have a friend in the Bishop's office that can expedite the paperwork. Besides, not being married in the eyes of the Church could impact how your children are viewed."

Not the children card. I can't have any children, Rita made sure I had a very _complete_ vasectomy. I hadn't entertained the possibility of having children for a very long time, that dream died a long time ago.

"Well, that is something to think about," Stephanie said. "I hadn't considered that. As to you helping with the annulment paperwork, No, but thank you. It's a lot of work and you've already been more than generous with us," she said shooting him a very sweet smile.

"You remind me of one of Joe's daughters," John said. "I did it for Theresa and I would gladly do it for you. You could consider me your generous uncle or a godfather of sorts."

She smiled softly at him and said, "I don't deserve your generosity."

"People who know me and know Joe are aware that I would do _anything_ to keep my family safe and happy. It would be my privilege."

When we left, I called Ranger and told him we needed to talk. We couldn't put it off beyond the few minutes it would take to get to the office. The cover was about to be blown.

~x~x~

An emergency meeting of the core Mexico group was called while we were en route. Half of the office was there wanting to know what had gone wrong so quickly and so seriously.

"John Russo is going to have Stephanie's marriage to Dickie Orr annulled," I said when the meeting came to order.

"So?" Zero asked.

"I've heard enough from Chris to know how much he likes to investigate things. Zero, you heard it on the tapes, too," I said. "He is very thorough, and it chances are good that he's going to investigate our marriage and check on our paper trail."

"You're sure?" Ranger asked.

"Oh yeah."

"Babe, why didn't you tell him it was a Catholic church?"

"I didn't think it was a big deal. He's sweet like my old uncle Tony, I've never lied to Uncle Tony. Evidently, John Russo's got the church council in his back pocket and they'll push it through."

"Why is he so interested?"

"He's saving the souls of our unborn children," I said clearing my throat. "Not that there are going to be any." There couldn't be, ever.

Rangeman had doctored the paperwork that had gone to the passport office but it didn't go any further than that. No one thought the marriage itself would fall to this level of scrutiny. If we had, things might have been handled differently from the beginning.

After we left, Ranger organized a staff meeting and conference call to all of the contacts at the government agencies. We needed to prevent everything from going upside down, as it stood things were sideways now.

The next day, Stephanie, Binky, Zero, Ranger and I met to sign a marriage license from a small county. Binky had been our officiate and had sent twenty-five dollars to Rolling Stone Magazine in the late nineties, so he could legally sign. Zero had been my partner for three years, even though he wasn't part of the initial _wedding party_ he wanted to make sure he could hold something over me for years. Always acting in the role of Alpha Male, Ranger made sure his signature was listed.

Someone had called in a big favor and had a messenger hand deliver the license that needed to be signed. Once the task was completed, the messenger was to hand-deliver the document to the Office of Vital Statistics so the electronic copy to be inserted into the system.

"Do we really have to do this?" Stephanie asked. She leaned back into me for support, she was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

"Paperwork snafu, not a problem," I said squeezing her hand.

Stephanie signed first and went to cruise the internet, mostly to avoid Ranger. He was so angry about the whole thing he'd been shaking.

"Come get me when you guys are done, Cariño," she said giving me a quick peck on the cheek. "Can we run some errands before we go home? I want to make a quick stop at the store."

"Okay. I'll get you in a bit," I said.

After she was left, the rest of us signed my freedom away.

Ranger said, "Cariño? Home? She's calling it home now?"

"Ranger, she's been living there for what feels like forever. She told me that anyplace she has her laundry basket is home."

He dared me to say something more, so I did.

"The job will be over soon, and she and her laundry basket will be out my front door. I'll need to borrow a truck to get her shit out, it's been expanding."

"What's with the date?" Zero asked looking for a new subject and not a great one at that.

I said, "February 25th of this year."

"What about _her_?" Ranger asked sneering at me.

"She can answer that date in her sleep; we've rehearsed it. There are a lot of questions she can answer about me when she's asleep. Want to find out? We like to nap at about three o'clock, you're welcome to quiz her then." My temper was short, I wasn't happy with the direction things were going or that we'd be living in a fishbowl for more than a week.

Binky and Zero made a quick exit before Ranger answered. His answer was a simple stare. He was trying to bore holes into the walls with his eyes. It wasn't working, but not for lack of effort on his part.

"You will make sure that this is expunged as soon as the job is over?" I asked heading for the door. "I don't want any tell tale traces of it coming back to haunt me."

"Oh, I'll make damned sure it's removed as soon as the all clear is sounded. You can bet your life on it."

No one wanted to tell Stephanie that, at least electronically, the marriage was now real. She was doing well with the cover, hadn't panicked and things had been going well. The consensus from the group was that if she found out, she might just upturn an applecart.

~x~x~

Two days later, we were back at the Russo's for dinner. After the meal, Stephanie was escorted by Maris to the home office. There she was greeted with a stack of papers, a local attorney, and Father Michael Patrick.

"But you really don't need to," she'd told them as the door closed behind her.

Her comment was ignored. Paperwork was completed and faxed to Dickie Orr; the grounds stated were fraud. Maybe by having her marriage annulled it would give Stephanie a way to get past the pain of her first husband. If the marriage never existed in the eyes of the Church, maybe, just maybe, she could give it less power to alter her perceptions on relationships and men.

John and I made small talk about the weather and sports. He broached the subject of children again. I smiled and deflected the questions as best I could. It was fairly easy because I had my head under the hood for the better part of an hour looking at hoses, the wiring harness, and checking connections. I wasn't being useful, I was being nosy. It was in great shape, he'd paid top dollar but gotten his money's worth. The car was in concourse condition, just this side of perfect.

* * *

A/N: I still feel sorry for Manny about the right word into the wrong ear. Or was that the wrong word into the right ear?

At any rate, Happy Manny Monday.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimers: repeat all the same - just like they've always been ... sad ain't it?

A/N: welcome to the working honeymoon - again, I do heartily recommend Alejandro Fernandez 'Canta Corazon' to get you into the mood ... nothing like setting the right mood, is there?

Expect the Unexpected 17  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina

Packing for a seven day, informal vacation is supposed to be simple. A small suitcase each should have been more than enough for both of us, right? All I was going to take were the basics and my shaving kit. Provided everything is clean, I can usually get myself packed in about twenty minutes. The only extras I was planning to take were going to fit in a small computer bag: the laptop, a flash drive, extra batteries, camera equipment and memory cards for the camera.

For Stephanie, it was as though she planned to take everything she'd brought to the house and things she still had in her apartment. There was no reason she'd need most of it, if indeed any of it. I was stunned when I saw the wreckage on the bed; the pile was three feet high and covered the whole bed from top to bottom.

She packed three bags plus her purse and carryon. Not just packed, but stuffed full to brimming. We'd previously agreed to pack lightly. In my estimation, this was about as far from that as was humanly possible.

If she'd been willing to listen to logic, I might not have done it; she wasn't and wouldn't listen. I took matters into my own hands.

I unpacked her bags and reallocated seventy-five percent of her stuff when she was at yoga. I tried to be accommodating and reasonable, but I really didn't think she was going to need it all. Come on, unless you are a professional hairdresser at a contest, who needs: two hair dryers, a curling iron, hot rollers, a straightening iron. And just how many brushes does one woman use anyway?

"Why did you do that?" she asked when she realized most of her things had been returned to the closet and bathroom.

"Be sensible, we aren't moving there. We're only going to be gone a week."

"But-"

"If you need anything, we'll buy it while we're there. It isn't like we're going to the Arctic Circle."

"You didn't touch any of the stuff in the makeup bag did you? Because everything in that bag is VITAL, especially the hair stuff."

"I was trained a long time ago to know that a woman's makeup and her purse are sacred. To answer your question, no I didn't touch anything in either bag." I'd wanted to remove most of it; she had enough paint and brushes to replicate the Sistine Chapel if she wanted to. "Besides, I've seen you without makeup, it isn't that scary."

"You're getting old if you can't see the improvement mascara makes."

"Do you remember the punishment for making comments about my age, Stephanie?"

"You'll spank me?" she asked biting her lip.

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah, but you've got to catch me first."

She never really has run all that fast.

Later that night, I pushed her to take what I needed her to take and wear. What was it? The mother of pearl necklace that I've already gotten her to wear. I'd planted recording and tracking devices in it, just in case. I'd taken my spare gold hoop and inserted a tracker in the hollow gold tube as well. I'd already sold her on the idea that the necklace was a weapon, but she didn't want to be constrained to wearing it with almost everything.

Fashion, the bane of my existence.

We negotiated that she would wear the necklace all of the time, even to the beach.

"Well, I'll wear it to make you happy, but only because you asked so nicely," she said.

I had stacked the deck in my own favor when we _negotiated_ because I needed the yes. When Stephanie says _yes_ she follows through even when she doesn't want to. I got several yeses by doing her favorite thing in the shower, repeatedly. A yes is a yes, no matter how you get it.

~x~x~

Initially the flight was to have been a commercial one; in the end the group took a charter. The plane was just this side of a puddle jumper. There were enough seats for the eight of us who were traveling together, but there was no privacy. Not that anything was going to happen, but I don't fly well and I didn't want a bunch of witnesses to my nerves. I would have given almost anything if we could have driven, but it wasn't optional.

At least it was a red eye, we didn't worry about making conversation with anyone and we slept as well as possible in the more or less locked and upright position. Stephanie realized I wasn't myself and held my hand and assured me it would all be okay. It was a total reversal of traditional roles; she put my head on her shoulder and gave me strength to get through the flight. When she's allowed to show it, she does have a lot of strength and intelligence; shame no one except me gets to see it. She's undervalued and under estimated at many levels.

When we finally touched down and made it through customs, our group was met by a minibus of sorts to go to the Russo compound about half an hour outside of the city. Even though I wasn't born in Mexico and spent very little time there, I felt like I'd come home. Everything from the temperature and humidity to the cadence of the people felt familiar; I've always felt a little out of place and out of step in Trenton. After this project is over, I'm going to consider moving to a border state; I didn't realize how much I missed the culture.

The compound consisted of one large house, several casitas, a six car garage, tennis courts, and a pool. The grounds were lush and, of course, well tended. Seems that even the plants were on their best behavior, making certain he remained happy; or else the staff put new plants in before his arrival.

We disembarked the minibus and were met by John and Maris, who evidently came the day before. From nowhere staff materialized and began to take luggage, place it on large luggage carts, and take it to various casitas.

I hoped that we would be in the main house, easier to get to the heart of the matter. Evidently the main house was for blood family, the bungalows were for the rest of the family visitors. John told us that while he would have put us in the main house, because this was our honeymoon, we garnered additional privacy. Right.

There were no keys to our bungalow because there were no locks on the door or windows. We'd taken nothing of monetary value, but having lived in cities all my life, I felt vulnerable.

"No one would dream of taking anything from your rooms," Maris said. "We pay well and only hire the best."

The lack of locks has me concerned, not about the staff, but the family members. Not that we had anything to hide. Nothing in our bags was questionable, the laptop was brand new with no cookies and no pre-sets, and there were no sex toys. I don't consider a small bottle of cinnamon flavored oil to be a sex toy, it's an _accessory_ just like scarves or neckties are fashion accessories.

We followed Jose, our guide, to our quarters at the far end of the garden. He elaborated on what was where, when we could expect meals, the fact that the water here was treated to _American _standards and wouldn't cause any intestinal problems. I asked if there was a chapel on property; there was a small one for family use on property. In order to attend mass, we needed to head to town.

The casita was small and very cozy, I don't know what I thought it was going to look like, but this wasn't it. The rooms were painted in the vivid colors I favored and had Saltillo tile floors. Jose pointed out the telephone, the compound had its own phone system and security. When the receiver was lifted, the line was immediately connected to an operator. If there was need for security or medical assistance, it would be dialed for us.

The living area had a sofa, a couple of chairs and table. There was a tiny alcove with a mini fridge, a place to make coffee and wash a couple of mugs. Missing from the room was any kind of television or radio; there was a stereo and a number of CDs from various artists but no direct contact with the outside world.

The lack of standard electronics wasn't a surprise, John said this was where they all came to retreat from civilization. If you are escaping reality, why do you want it distracting you on vacation? The evenings were going to be booked with family dinners and events so there wasn't going to be much to miss other than the morning news programs and that one stupid novella I'd found myself addicted to. Sure I'd catch up on it when I got home, it was my guilty pleasure and I didn't want anyone else realizing it, not even my cousin.

Stephanie immediately gravitated to the bedroom and bathroom, seemed she thought that was where she thought we'd be spending the most time.

"It's a double bed," she said. "We've never slept on a double together. I mean it's what I had in the apartment, but it looks so small."

"We haven't been taking that much room on the bed at the house." We'd all but been sleeping on top of each other; we could sleep together on a twin bed and have room left over. "The only advantage of a larger bed is there's more room to change positions."

She didn't say anything, she blushed instead and walked into the bathroom. Some days it was just too easy.

"There's no shower in the bathroom. You going to be okay with that?" she asked.

It didn't matter to me, I've always figured as long as there was running water that was the important thing. "Does it look big enough for two?" I walked in behind her. The bathroom was a decent size, had been stocked with plenty of towels, and the tub appeared to be model with jets. "It'll do nicely," I said with a grin.

"Is that all you think about?" she asked with a shake of her head.

She was so much better at doing it than talking about it; too bad this would be over sooner than later, I could help her with that.

By my own calculations, we'd probably have the week here and a few days during the de-briefing and I'd be back to the Baskin Robbins life, thirty-one or more flavors of women and no waiting.

I put the stopper down in the tub and ran the water before I spoke again. "Remember that unless you want the rest of the world to hear it and know it, you're going to have to watch what you say."

She nodded. "Do we want to look for bugs now or later?" she whispered.

"I'll take this room and the bedroom, you take the front. They shouldn't be too hard to find."

In fact, the bugs were fairly difficult to find; a medium level job. The technology wasn't the most current, but it wasn't ancient by any means. I looked at the devices I found and was glad we'd spent so much time talking about trivial things over the past few weeks; surely we'd bore whoever was assigned to listen to us.

I found several devices the bedroom. There was also something behind the mirror over the dresser and one in the flowers on the night stand. At first pass, the bathroom looked like it had been spared; then I found a small hole in the ceiling above the bathtub. No sharing the bathtub on a regular basis, just in case.

She met me back in the bedroom and said, "Next to the coffee maker was a supply of the creamer we like. The coffee is even the brand you buy at home." She was making conversation and indicating that the coffee station was where she'd spotted the first of the bugs.

"Very thoughtful," I said. I hadn't packed any to take with us and I found coffee damn near impossible to drink without it.

"There's a schedule on the fridge. We've got a family lunch in a couple of hours and there's a bonfire tonight after dinner."

"By the way, I love the sofa," she said. "It's comfortable enough that if I get mad at you, you'll still be able to sleep."

"No, no. If you're mad, you should be the one who suffers. Besides, you haven't looked out the windows yet."

We had a small patio with a hammock and a view of the grounds. It hadn't been cleared yet, it was next on the list.

"I always wanted to sleep on one of these when I was a kid," she said. "If you promise not to flip it upside down, I'll share it with you."

"You get to test it alone, the only time I ever got on one of those, the ropes were rotten and I broke through right after I fell asleep. Have you ever slept at the beach?"

"No. And before you ask, I've never had sex at the beach either."

"We could negotiate something, I'll make sure you have fun."

"Fun. Now that's a nice way of selling the idea of me getting sand in uncomfortable places," she said.

"You wouldn't have to be on the bottom."

"Maybe, but not tonight and no promises."

"We'll see about that. Honeymoon, remember?"

"Argh."

Instead of more exploration of the grounds or any unpacking, we opted for a minor nap that involved only sleeping to catch up on the sleep from the prior night. The alarm on my watch went off about an hour before lunch was scheduled. After I got cleaned up and shaved, I got her moving again. We took the camera out and walked our section of the compound and took several pictures of the layout of the place.

Prior to leaving we agreed that we'd always try to shoot pictures in a clockwise direction and attempt a circle. This way we could provide as close to a 360 degree view of the place as possible; that I was in many of the shots couldn't be avoided since she was supposed to be the photographer of the 'family'. I did take the camera from her a few times, just so things looked natural. I slipped the memory stick that had the layout of the compound out before I took pictures of her. One stick for the camera and 'Aunt Susan' the other was for backup and possibly more incriminating pictures later.

John and Maris were the ultimate in hosts; events were scheduled daily for the group. Most of them had already gone and seen the big tourist spots, gone snorkeling and parasailing before so they weren't quite as excited as Stephanie was. As far as work assignments go, I had no complaints. There were things on their daily schedule were things I never would have afforded myself to do. Then again, I never planned on doing a trip like this with anyone, ever.

Lunch was buffet style with enough food easily feed double the number of people at the compound. If the menu didn't change at all for the week, there was still enough variety not to repeat the same food too often.

Over lunch John made a point of telling me that even though the group had reservations several places, Stephanie and I were on our own schedule. He wanted to make sure that we had enough time to go to mass and e-mail Aunt Susan about her cousin, Buck. Cousin Buck was supposed to be incredibly ill. If we ever got an e-mail that Buck had gone to the hospital it meant that we'd been blown and would need to leave immediately if not sooner.

"I'd like to go to mass every morning," I said smiling at Stephanie. "It keeps both of us grounded." She pinched my thigh; she still wasn't thrilled with the idea of church but she knew it was important. It was a consistent place and time we would be able to talk and we both knew it.

"You're making the rest of us look bad," Chris said. "I might join you one morning, if mass is late enough."

"Anyone know what time daily mass is held?" I asked.

No one seemed to know. Not even the staff that floated in and out of the room.

"No problem, we'll walk there this afternoon and check out the village," I said. Stephanie pinched my thigh again. "Oh come on, you know you see a lot more on foot than you do if we drive."

She sighed and looked at John.

"Don't worry, we can have someone drive you in the mornings. We'll make sure you can join the groups when you've done what you need to do," he said. "Or if you want to make your own plans, we understand."

Stephanie turned her smile on at full power. "Thank you. I do like to walk. Manny and I take hikes on a regular basis, but I don't want to spend all of our time walking to and from church. I want to play with the rest of the group while we're here."

Great, we had a little freedom from the compound, but we were assigned adult supervision so we wouldn't get into trouble.

John and Maris looked pleased and proud; Stephanie was answering all of the questions the right way the first time out the chute. All that practice was paying off.

After lunch we changed into walking shoes, grabbed the camera, a couple of bottles of water, and began the walk to town. It wasn't a long trek, but summer was here and the temperatures and humidity rivaled what Jersey could produce. It was a shame that they hadn't wanted to do this back in April when temperatures were more moderate; then again, we wouldn't have been ready.

The church was empty, I hadn't expected anyone to be there. It was a very typical, older Catholic church complete with a large altar, several statues, wooden pews with un-upholstered kneeling benches. There was a smell of frankincense combined with sandalwood and candles burning that made the place complete to all of my senses. It was an echo of the churches from the neighborhood when I was a kid, this place made me feel safe and loved; newer churches often leave me feeling empty and cold. There was a mass bulletin in the back that showed that morning mass was at 7:30 and there was a schedule for the Sunday services. The option of English mass was offered; it was hard enough to get Stephanie to go in Spanish, I didn't think English would have been possible.

Since I'd initiated going to daily mass with Stephanie, my own life was coming back into balance. I looked forward to the half an hour or so every morning that I devoted to the divine. I'd even taught Stephanie the 'Our Father' in Spanish, I never thought I'd teach anyone how to do that; it made her more comfortable in the Spanish masses. She wasn't a big fan on the rosary or I'd have taught her the Hail Mary and The Apostle's Creed as well. I should have gone back to daily services for myself years ago; no point in looking back, I guess, I was going now and it felt right.

We walked hand in hand through the town square and found a little café that had internet access and pastries. They looked much better in the case than they did when she tried one. She expected the pastries to be as sweet as what she'd had at home. Due to the language barrier with the clerk, I bought her several to try so she could decide what she really liked. We both agreed on the same one, not that she'd ever split something so precious.

She took pictures of everything in the town and on the walk back to the compound. The time stamps were going to come in handy later on when we watched the changing of the guards.

~x~x~

Dinner wasn't quite a re-run of lunch, but close. It seemed that John was going to control the conversation topics and the seating. David tried to sit next to Stephanie, not that either of us minded; John did. Chastised is too strong a word for the comments Maris made, but she was heard and immediately obeyed. Evidently honeymoons were considered a time of bonding by the family and we were going above and beyond by sharing ours with them even though they were paying for literally everything except my motion sickness pills.

The evening passed with a variety of board games and puzzles provided in the living room. I don't enjoy games and hadn't since, well, I hadn't for a long time. The idea that we'd be able to see people showing their true natures was intriguing and possibly very useful; who would cow-tow, who was the fierce competitor, who played for fun, and who played only to meet expectations.

The games commenced until such time as the sun was low enough to begin the bonfire. I hadn't been to one since I was a kid. Stephanie and I were the only ones who didn't imbibe in the free flow of alcohol. When asked directly she confessed that she wasn't a very good drinker and didn't want to shame herself by beginning to dance like someone out of a bad sit com.

"No one will tell," Jeanne said. "And no one here dances all that well."

The music was loud and distracting, but it didn't stop anyone else from attempting to dance.

Stephanie said, "It's that he's never seen me make a total fool of myself and I'd like to keep it that way." She smiled and inclined her head my direction.

I hadn't ever seen her make a fool of herself, but I had seen her in some bad situations. I'd seen the bad fallout of more than one bad take down, I always credited her for a good effort even if the execution wasn't perfect.

"Nothing you do could ever embarrass me, Nieves. You're perfect the way you are," I said as I kissed the back of her neck.

"Don't be too sure about that," she said swatting my hands away.

No one noticed when we disappeared to our casita. It was early by party standards, but if we were going to establish a schedule, we needed to be consistent. Aunt Susan would be waiting for initial pictures and we couldn't disappoint Aunt Susan.

* * *

A/N: just how much acting is really going on? thoughts? anyone? Bueller? Ferris Bueller?

thanks as always for reading and reviewing - and Happy Manny Monday!... Alf.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimers: We all know what they are and who actually makes money on this endeavor, but I highly doubt JE has as much fun with the MM as I do.

A/N: A little short, but next week will more than make up for it, I promise.

**Expect the Unexpected 18  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

We fell into a routine immediately. We'd either walk or be driven to town by Rogelio for morning mass, have coffee and pastries after it was over and send e-mail. Stephanie had gotten pictures of everyone in the 'family', the staff, and the body guards that accompanied the main family members. Rogelio was the eldest of the guards and slowest, probably why he was the designated driver in the mornings. He never joined us at mass; he was afraid the church would burst into flame if he ever walked inside.

The third morning when we were walking back, she slipped on some leaves in clear view of one of the other guards. As I stooped to help her up, he was immediately by her side acting as though I wasn't capable of helping her. She disarmed him with a smile and almost got him to talk to her, but for the language barrier.

Alberto, the morning guard on the southeast corner of the property, had a wife and four kids. He liked his job but found it incredibly boring, except when it wasn't. When it wasn't he'd been terrified, on balance he preferred boring. He'd been employed by the family for almost a decade. Visitors who weren't family were few and far between so we caused quite a bit of speculation.

Through me, Stephanie asked him for a picture. He wouldn't pose or even acknowledge the request. She asked if she could bribe him and if he'd pose then; her bribe of choice? Cookies from the bakery and fresh coffee. After some hemming and hawing, he agreed, but only after she 'paid up'.

The next morning, we provided Alberto two cookies and a hot coffee, she got her picture. As we headed to leave, Stephanie asked if she could get a picture of all the guys who worked on the property for her scrapbook. Negotiations were much longer and detailed, he said he'd have an answer the next day.

The bribe? Food from town, I think it was just the novelty of having her chose pastries for them. We provided three carafes of coffee, paper cups and napkins, and almost all the pastries from the café to get the initial picture. Ten guards who wouldn't normally allow themselves to leave their stations were corralled into one place for a group photo. Stephanie asked if she would be able to get the other two shifts to pose for her. The response was requests for lunch and other similar bribes, and so she was scheduled to get the additional photos.

By being herself, providing relatively small and very cheap bribes, she'd been capable of doing what the government agencies hadn't; she got a complete photographic line up of guards. She even knew which shift and where on the property they belonged. She worked her magic and they all opened up to her in ways no one could have imagined. Actually, they opened up to us since I was her translator; she was the one who remembered the details and would ask personal questions of the guys when she would see them again. Good memory and attention to their lives made her a friend and someone who was not under suspicion, a good lesson to be reminded of.

We spent the early afternoon at the compound using the pool while we had the place to ourselves. It's much harder to bug an open space. It didn't mean there weren't cameras, they were everywhere if you had your eyes open to them. We were able to talk about what we'd accomplished and what else needed to be done before the next trip to town to e-mail 'Aunt Susan'.

Rather than swim laps, she put her legs around my waist and arms around my neck. We were able to speak into each other's ear without being overheard and appearing to be completely enthralled with each other. Due to the lightness of complexion, the failure to put sun block on her skin, and the tenting problem I had, we left the pool after about thirty minutes.

Ultimately, we did most of the touristy things with the group for the first several days and, overall, it was good; however, I was getting itchy to actually do something more than be entertained. More importantly, I wanted to do it alone. Everything we did outside of going to church was supervised to some degree or another. We needed privacy and no audience for a little while. I noticed there was a small boat, the kind my cousins used to water ski behind, on the property, it was this side of abandoned. I took matters into my own hands and spoke with John after dinner on the fifth night.

"I need to do something," I said. "Do you have anything that needs to be fixed?"

"You're on vacation, son, what's the problem? Aren't you having a good time?"

"The problem is I haven't been on a vacation for years and I don't do well when I'm not in the middle of a project. I feel useless after about 72 hours. I don't do well when I'm idle. Frankly, I've been idle too long."

"I don't have anything I could trouble you to do."

"Anything you'd pay someone to do and I'll do it for free? Plumbing, wiring, or are there any old motorcycles that need some TLC?"

"Well, there is an old boat at the back of the property that hasn't seen anything but rainwater in about five years. You could have a go at it; it was my first boat and I still have it for sentimental reasons. None of my kids would be caught dead in it because of its color, part of why it's been unused recently."

After I got it fixed, at the very least running, I could see about taking Stephanie out alone. I hadn't told her this was my plan, or that my goal was three fold. One, I wanted and needed to be productive. Two, I needed a way to show the family that I could be useful down the road, by fixing something that they no longer cared about showed my sincerity and if they weren't happy, no one would be out anything. Three, it gave me a chance to snoop into the tools and the mechanics of how the compound worked and who all was part and parcel.

The boat was early-seventies vintage and was about twelve feet long. It was the kind of thing to water ski behind, definitely not viable for open water. The boat was my favorite color, Orange Crush soda; it was a bit faded but still orange with a white racing stripe, the upholstery was a faded royal blue. The only problems with the boat were minor, a couple of loose wires, it needed a bit of cleaning, and I purged the fuel line; other than that it was fine. In less than two hours, was mission accomplished.

Jorge had been assigned to be my 'helper' while I worked on the boat; he was one of the newer and less experienced guards. He was fairly decent company. He told me about his old Range Rover he'd inherited from a family member. It was mid-seventies vintage and had all kinds of problems. He wanted to fix it up for one of his kids, but to pay to have the work done was going to cost more than a recent model and possibly more reliable vehicle.

The Range Rover had seen better days both internally and externally. The cosmetics of any vehicle or motorcycle don't concern me if it isn't sound to drive. A brief look told me it would need five new tires, even the spare was shot, new hoses, brake lines, and transmission work. At least the wiring chassis was in reasonable shape, but barely. If the other pieces weren't handled first, there was no point to improve the wiring.

We talked about the cost of repair if we could get the parts, probably no more than two days if everything was available. If I did the work and fronted the money for the parts he'd have a functional and useable vehicle for several years. It wasn't that much money and if he never paid me back, it was my own form of entertainment. I decided to do it, all it really cost me was my time and some bandages.

Damian, the head of the security patrol and Jorge's cousin, gave Jorge two days off to acquire parts and assist me. I had no issue doing the work alone, but I wanted my time to be verifiable. Stephanie and I already had photos sent to the pictures and the time table of the guards to "Aunt Susan" so as far as I was concerned, we were marking time.

The assignment was originally for seven days and that's what I signed on for. Stephanie did so well with the family, they extended us to ten days as a _gift_ to us. The extension annoyed me to no end. My patience with being a doting husband and escort wore thin. All the better to have a project to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.

Jorge helped me trailer the little speed boat behind another old truck so we could test it on open water. Stephanie and I were granted a day alone on the water away from prying eyes. It would be a day without the fear being monitored; I'd done a mass sweep of the boat before we left for the day. It is one thing to verify something is clean initially, but anyone could have planted something at any point before we left the compound.

We gathered provisions for a day away; food, water, sun block, vehicle, camera, binoculars, and towels. After the boat was launched and we were away from the shore, she had the binoculars out and scanned where we'd been.

"We have company," she said.

"Great. Can you tell who it is?" I asked.

"Looks like the driver from the mornings and someone else."

"Are they doing anything?" I asked fighting the urge to look back.

"Not really. But then again, I never notice them doing anything."

That was true, but the role of most security is to stand around and observe and we both knew it.

"Why do you think they followed us?" she asked.

"Probably to ID us in case the boat sinks," I said.

She gave me a frown. "I have no intention of drowning with you today."

"I was kidding. The thing is in good shape. Come up here with me and bring some water with you, please."

We split the captain's chair for about fifteen minutes. It was far enough I could feel the noose around my neck loosening.

"You okay?" she asked. "You look, I don't know, _different_."

"I really didn't want to be extended." I ran my hand through my hair and sighed.

"Neither did I. But at least we're together, right?"

That was the problem. I hadn't spent this much time with one person for years. It was changing me and I didn't like it.

"Yeah, we're together. Hand me your bottle and I'll open it for you." I held my hand out for her water bottle, it was reflex to open all her bottles and cans.

"Wanna get in the water?" she asked after she drained her bottle. "Never mind. I forgot my bathing suit. But I'll watch you swim."

"It isn't like I haven't seen you naked." I've seen her naked daily for weeks from every possible angle, there were no surprises there. How could she forget a bathing suit if she knew where we were going and what we were doing?

I convinced her that we were far enough from shore no one would know and we could skinny dip. What the hell? I should enjoy myself while I can.

~x~x~

I spent the rest of the trip finishing repairs and fine tuning the Range Rover. I only joined the rest of the group at night for meals; the kitchen provided me a sack lunch. It was a great project vehicle, no computerized parts and an engine compartment large enough to move tools around. In a lot of ways, I really prefer older technology; it may break down more often, but I can usually fix it. My father was a shade tree mechanic and tuning up the old Ford trucks in the driveway were some of the best memories of my youth.

I was detaching from the group and this played into the role Stephanie cast me in earlier, someone who always had work on his mind. Not true, I think about work, sex, food and sleep and in that order. Distance from the group and Stephanie was important and better to establish the distance, even a little, now.

* * *

Thanks as always for reading! Alf.

A/N: Happy Labor Day in addition to Happy Manny Monday.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimers: We've heard them, read them, and even typed them repeatedly – no need for a rerun this morning since they all still apply.

a/n: remember to expect the unexpected this chapter, and a wee bit of Manny smut.

**Expect the Unexpected 19  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

We returned from Mexico to a lengthy debriefing in Philly. We spent the better part of two days reviewing our stories, explaining what we'd seen, relationships as we'd experienced them, and how the photos matched up. We identified holes in their security system, timing when the perimeter wasn't well guarded, and the guards who would be the easiest to overwhelm.

Stephanie and I were not sharing the same accommodations; too bad really since she was about to cycle again. I didn't want to be there when it happened, her moods were awful but the pre-period period was great; she was uninhibited and wild – just my style.

Ranger was there along with three other officials, one from each agency. We were summoned to the same interview room. I pulled her chair out when she came into the room; I'd assumed we'd sit next to each other. She got two coffees and brought one over for me. I don't know when it started to happen, but she tested my cup before she put it on the table and then she dropped a kiss on the top of my head before she sat down. I took the hand that had held the coffee, brought it to my lips and kissed it before she sat in her own chair; another habit to break that made the look of coupledom even more convincing. It really is a shame I forget about the audience and work from habit and instinct.

"Babe? What are you doing?" Ranger asked. It was clear from the studied, careful tone in his voice that he was less than pleased at the familiarity between us.

"Just making sure it doesn't need more sweetener or creamer. If his coffee isn't right, he becomes a very growly bear in the mornings," she said with a small smile as she finally sat down.

Jesus.

"Stephanie, would you mind going back to pull some reports off the printer? I forgot to bring them in with me," he said as he glowered at me.

"Sure," she said. She rose, ran her hand across my shoulders, moved my ponytail out of her way so she could place a kiss on the back of my neck. She finally left the room. Though it took seconds, it felt like hours since it was being well witnessed.

Ranger's eye twitched as he watched her leave. He wasn't even remotely over her. He couldn't be territorial and we both knew it, but it was killing him all the same. I had an inkling that I'd feel the same if I saw her do it to anyone else; not a feeling I wanted to embrace or delve into at any level.

"Manny, what is she going on about?" He wasn't talking about the kissing and touches exchanged between us, at least that's what I hoped he wasn't talking about..

"Evidently I need more caffeine than I like to think, and I'm pickier than I want to admit. She fixes it the way I like it." I visibly grimaced as I said the words. Things are different when there are no witnesses, you know?

"You've both adjusted completely to your cover, haven't you?" He was clicking the pen in his hand at such a fast rate he was sure to break the spring in it soon.

"You and I discussed this a long time ago. Her behaviors and responses are what she practiced and rehearsed until it became a habit, a reflex; so are mine. She doesn't think anymore when she responds to me; it's all training. It was necessary to make things this close there's been a lot of scrutiny. John Russo sees her like a daughter and he did substantial quizzing of her about our life together, even specifics of our marriage. Don't worry, she goes back to her own life after we get the all clear." Damn right.

It would take weeks to stage the breakup correctly; we were newlyweds after all. It had been predetermined that an old girlfriend wouldn't accept the new relationship I had with Stephanie and she'd come between us. Stephanie would then be able to move out free and clear, I'd look like a jerk when she went through the motions to file for divorce. It would be pretty easy to pull off since that is pretty much what happened with Dickie Orr, we all knew she'd be able to pull off the emotional aspect.

The meeting was dry by its very nature. In order to keep Stephanie fully engaged in the proceedings, we adjourned every hour or so. She would bring back either two bottles of water or cans of soda after each break and place them in front of me. I'd open them both and hand one to her always kissing her hand before she took the container. It was another habit and it made Ranger's jaw twitch.

"Nails," she said to Ranger when she noticed his face.

"Babe?" he asked.

"I just did my nails and I don't want to ruin the polish. He opens all my soda cans for me. Isn't that sweet? I mean initially I thought it was irritating, but now I kind of like it."

There was one question directed to Stephanie and she didn't have an immediate answer. She turned to me and said, "Cariño, I don't remember when that happened. What do you remember?"

Ranger's pencil broke when she said that and then his coffee cup toppled over. He knew it was a practiced pet name, but it didn't make it easier for him to hear.

Lunch the first day was a brown bag affair from a local deli. We had marked orders earlier in the day with our preferences. When lunch was delivered, Stephanie inadvertently frosted Ranger's cupcake. I opened my bag, took out the pickle and handed it to her. She smiled and gave me her extra packet of mustard. She'd ordered chips, opened the bag and placed it between us and we shared them as had become ritual. After lunch, I took out my cookie and we split it. We'd been doing it for weeks and it was natural and normal; it went over poorly to say the least.

"There's enough money in the budget for you to have your own chips and cookie, Babe," he said to Stephanie.

"But I can't eat a whole bag _and_ a whole cookie, I'd have to give one up. This way I get the best of both. Besides, Manny doesn't mind."

I minded in the beginning. I got over it. The sharing of food, the coffee taste test, and opening all her cans worked well for the cover. I had finally adjusted to the fact that she squeezes toothpaste from the middle and still thought my t-shirts were community property. If you do something long enough and it becomes normal; these things were now all normal to both of us.

The next morning, Ranger took me aside to talk. A conversation about Stephanie was not something I looked forward to. I expected the worst.

"I wanted to set up a dinner now that your job is officially over," Ranger said. "You should both celebrate a job well done. Go somewhere nice and expense it. I'd go with you, but I can't stomach much more of it."

"I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to watch it either. I'm planning to move the lion's share of her stuff out in a couple of days, anyone on the schedule who can help?"

He visibly relaxed. "I'll have Tank assign a couple of the guys the day after you get home."

I inclined my head and blew out a breath. Freedom, I could almost smell it.

~x~x~

After we were dismissed from our final briefing, we rode back to Trenton and my place together. It was almost five when we got home; reservations were for seven o'clock. Since most of her stuff was still at my house anyway, we decided we'd both clean up there and then make a night of it.

This dinner was going to be my final gesture as her _husband_. Hell, I don't do romantic dinners, ever, so it would be nice change for both of us. Tomorrow after breakfast we'd officially start our own lives again; we'd talked about it and she was fine with it. She'd also made a point of telling me she wouldn't be a friend with benefits. Too bad, too. She offered some nice benefits.

"Do you care what I wear?" she asked from the bedroom.

"It's some place dressy for a change, but wear what you want and we'll adjust plans if necessary," I said through the door. Why she was closing the door on me at this stage was surprising, but it really didn't matter.

I'd put on some nice pants and a dress shirt. I left my jacket and tie on the back of the sofa. I don't normally do formal and didn't want to put on the tie any earlier than necessary.

I lost track of how long she was in the bathroom. I fell asleep on the sofa watching the news waiting for her. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and her lips along the column of my neck. She smelled of warmth, spice, and something not quite floral but still very feminine. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

She was stunning. The dress was a simple sheath in a gunmetal grey and pumps that were strappy and far too complicated to explain.

"Do I look alright?" she asked looking a little nervous. "I mean, you've wanted me to tone down my look on a regular basis. If it's too much, I'll put something else on."

She did a slow pirouette for me so I could take in every inch and every angle of her. She was fingering her necklace, exposing her nerves and uncertainty.

I stood and kissed her. "Depends on what look you're trying to achieve."

She bit her lip and looked at me. "Um, sexy?"

Cute because she had no idea just how sexy she looked.

"Oh, you've got that down," I said as I slid my hands up and down her arms. "Did you have a purpose for this look?"

"Ah," she said biting her lip, "I thought you'd like it. I can change if you want me to."

"How high are the heels?"

She told me and standing next to me, I knew that she'd be the perfect height to 'dance' with me in the living room. I moved my hands to her ass, squeezed and fondled it. I realized she had on no underwear of any kind. It was obvious from the way the dress clung to her body, she wasn't wearing a bra either.

"I think it's a very appropriate outfit for eating out," I said as I backed her into the wall. "Would you like that?"

"That could be a good plan." She continued to worry her lip and looked at me. "But, I go along with most of your suggestions."

All of my plans realigned almost instantly at that point. I inched the skirt up a little at a time as I kissed her. Once the skirt was to the top of her thighs I moved my hand to her mound and cupped her.

"Oh God," she moaned.

"You know it's just me, Stephanie. You can't have forgotten me already, can you?" I backed her into the wall by the kitchen in the event she needed a little support.

"No way I could forget you, Manny," she said in as dry and ragged a voice I'd ever heard from her.

I moved my fingers back and forth over her; she was dripping. I've lived and slept with her for weeks I'd gotten accustomed to smelling her arousal and desire. Her perfume must have masked it this evening.

"Feels like you got started without me," I said as I sank to my knees before her and draped her right leg over my shoulder. "Do you remember how to beg?"

I looked up and saw her face; she had a very far away look. Her eyes were incredibly dark, almost an indigo color, they always darken when she's turned on. She nodded minutely.

"Good. And once you're almost out of your mind, desperate to come, do you know what I'm going to do?" I asked as I parted her with two fingers preparing her for her out of mind and out of body experience.

She responded with a moan.

"I'm going to strip that dress off you and leave you in nothing but those shoes and that necklace," I said, "and then I'm going to fuck you against this wall."

"Oh God."

"Nieves, God has the night off. It's Manny. Just tell me, while you can still talk, have you ever gone commando in public before?"

She whispered, "No. Too taboo to do that."

"Really? Let's see if there aren't some other taboos we can get you to break tonight," I said as I was about to make her lose the power of speech.

Ultimately, we didn't break any taboos, but we did break a lamp in the living room before we made it to the bedroom an hour later. I never liked that lamp anyway.

It was well after ten o'clock when I decided that I, for one, needed to eat. I hadn't had anything significant since noon and my energy was lagging; whipped cream and maraschino cherries just don't have that much staying power. Her energy level? She was snoring and would either sleep through the night or she'd be on me again inside of an hour.

I wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and came up with very little.

"Hey, looks like you're scrounging for something to eat. I'm hungry, too," she said stumbling in after me, wearing my button down shirt from earlier that evening; mis-buttoned and rumpled was definitely a good look on her, so was the wicked smile. "Can I help?"

"Not a lot to do, there's almost no food. I was going to go to the store in the morning. You can mix this." I handed her a can of frozen OJ and a pitcher.

"You know after tonight, I'll never be able to look at a can of whipped cream or chocolate frosting the same way again," she said staring at the floor.

"Good," I said with a smile. "It's fun but neither one is very nutritious."

I looked in the fridge again and pulled out the eggs and butter.

"Do you have bacon?" she asked. She opened the drawer where I keep cloth napkins, dish cloths, and aprons. She pulled out an apron, flicked it open, and tied it around my waist. "I like your lack of outfit, but I don't think you want anything important to be splattered."

If I'd been thinking properly, I wouldn't have considered cooking in the raw, nice that she was looking out for at least certain parts of me. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Hey, I thought you preferred _sausage_?" Okay, I was looking for a little praise. Okay, I was looking for a lot of praise.

"You do amazing things with sausage," she said pouring water into the pitcher. "But I thought a little variety would be nice."

"I need sustenance before I give you any more variety."

"You know, I always thought women who claimed to be multi-orgasmic were lying," she said as she poured two glasses of orange juice. "In the past, I've considered myself lucky to have one orgasm when I had sex."

That couldn't be right; she was incredibly responsive to me and had been from the very beginning. "Really? You've never had that problem with me."

"I know. Thank you."

"What was your personal best?" I asked. Not that the information was going to be useful to me, but my curiosity had been raised.

"You were there, just now," she said staring into the pitcher of juice like it could explain the meaning of life to her.

"Before me?" My vanity wanted to know just how good the predecessors had been; it was a matter of pride.

"I'm not answering that," she said clearing her throat. "All you need to know is that it is different with you."

"In that case, can you give me a number for tonight?"

"I think you gave me a baker's dozen but I lost count. It might have been more."

By my count, she'd gotten about fifteen or sixteen orgasms. Maybe she was just counting the bigger ones?

"I'm always glad to be of service," I said. "Eggs over easy okay with you?"

She concurred.

I laid out bacon onto a cookie sheet to heat in the oven, no point in grease burns before the evening was over. I cracked four eggs into the skillet and ruined one of the yolks; looks like scrambled eggs instead.

"Scrambled eggs okay?"

She smiled. "Eggs are eggs. Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I know it's a little late, but I want you to know I'm not usually like this," she said biting her lip.

"Like what?"

She puckered her lips and blew a long breath of air out. "I've been like a nymphomaniac almost from the beginning with you. I can go for months at a time without sex and here I've used you like my own private sex toy. I've been wanton and selfish. I never considered your wants, needs, or desires. I'm sorry."

"You've never heard me object, have you? I do know how to say no, I've even said it before," I said. "I just periodically need a nap after the third or fourth time. You don't need to apologize for yourself. You're normal, beautiful and have a healthy sexual appetite. There's nothing wrong with that," I said stirring the eggs to make sure they didn't stick to the bottom of the pan. "Having a healthy appetite is perfectly normal."

"In that case, I'm hungry now." She smile on her face looked innocent until she licked her lips slowly then all pretense of innocence or even repentance vanished.

I put eggs and bacon on two plates and handed her a fork. "I approve. Now eat your eggs."

I was just starting to chew when the phone rang. She was closer to it so she picked it up.

"Ramos residence," she said into the receiver. "Sure." She put her hand over the handset and mouthed, "John Russo for you."

I took the phone and exchanged pleasantries with my former host.

" … No, we were just fooling around the house tonight." The truth is always easier to remember.

"I know it's an imposition and it's very late," he said, "but when you worked on the boat last week-"

Here it comes. "Is there a problem?"

"On the contrary, that little boat has never performed better. I'd like to know if you would come back and work on the others. We're having some performance issues."

"I might be able to do that. What did you have in mind?"

"How are you for next week or ten days? I'll take care of all your expenses and I'll compensate you for your time. It'd be better if you could come back next week."

"I'll have to look at my schedule and commitments, but I think everything can be shuffled."

"Good."

When the conversation ended, I went in search of Stephanie. She was back in bed, lying on her side. Purple passion killers were in plain view. Purple?

"You need to buy more Advil."

"Okay." I waited for her to say something else.

"My period just started. Can you see if I still have a Milkyway bar in the fridge?" She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at me.

I knew she didn't have any chocolate left in the house and I knew it as fact. "I ate it," I said as I pulled on some shorts and a grey t-shirt that had seen better days.

She glared and looked like she was about to give me an Italian hand gesture.

"Before you get up a head of steam, I'm going to the store. I'll be back in less than half an hour." It was a preemptive statement. I didn't want her coming unglued for lack of chocolate sedative.

"Excuse me? That was medicinal chocolate and you ate it?" Obviously I wasn't quite fast enough.

"I had to keep up my strength a couple of hours ago. You weren't arguing at the time. I think you were saying things like 'don't stop' and 'that's it, just like that' and 'oh Manny please, just a little more'. That stuff is work and it takes energy. I thought I used a lot of energy, I could be wrong. Am I?"

"No. Fine, you needed the chocolate then and I need some now."

"So you know, this job isn't over. It looks like we're going back."

"In that case, buy a couple of pints of ice cream while you're at it. I'm going to need it." She wandered into the bathroom, turned on a light came back, and handed me the lid from a box of tampons. "I need more of these, too."

"Okay. I'll call Ranger to let him know."

"Buy some frozen peas, while you're there."

"Cramping?"

"No. I want to use it as an ice pack for the hickeys. You weren't supposed to leave hickeys, we always agreed no hickeys. I didn't leave any on you even though there were a couple of spots that would have been very discreet. You told me you don't like them so I didn't do it to you."

"Only one of them is visible," I said. I don't normally mark my partners, but I wanted to tonight. "Candy bars, ice cream, frozen veggies and tampons. Got it."

Tonight was supposed to be our last hurrah before the job was over and I took her home in the morning. It was going to be the one final carnal event, as much as she could take, as imaginative as I could be. Instead, I was exhausted, looking for chocolate, and my tour of duty had just been extended. At least I'd probably get a full night's sleep tonight after I got done at the store.

I called Ranger from the car. "We're going back," I said. "We need to meet in the morning and get additional direction."

He grunted his acknowledgment.

"Oh, and you need to make sure Ella has plenty of chocolate and/or doughnuts available for the meeting."

"Why?"

"Her period just started."

"And you know that because?"

"I've been sent to the store to procure tampons. Good enough for you?"

"Video conference tomorrow morning at nine o'clock in conference room B."

I disconnected and wondered exactly how much chocolate I was supposed to buy.

* * *

A/N: See? You thought it was over ... Manny thought it was over and Ranger was hoping it was over ...

Happy Manny Monday and thanks as always for reading and reviewing! ~~ Alf.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimers: blah, blah, blah nothing gained (financially) but hoping you all enjoy.

A/N: Just like reality TV, I bring you: The Twist, someone you aren't expecting is now thrown into the mix.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 20  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

I called John Russo the next morning from the meeting room. The conversation needed some documentation and it would be easier to keep everyone in the loop if they were all in attendance when the call was made and recorded.

"John, Manny Ramos here. I am very intrigued about the possibility of going back. When would you want me to come?"

"I don't just want you. You need to bring that beautiful wife of yours."

"I don't want to impose on your hospitality." I looked around the room for agreement. "Actually, neither of us wants to impose on you."

"Not an imposition, you would be doing me a big favor. Besides, I wouldn't want you to be so far apart for so long this early in your marriage."

"We're hardly ever apart. I'll make sure she clears her schedule, too," I said. Some days I craved a little quality alone time.

"Now, to the business at hand, that little speed boat of mine. What did you do to it?"

"Just a little tightening, cleaning, and purging. Nothing exotic or difficult. I was just tinkering." That was the total truth. I had only wanted it to be sea worthy for an afternoon's entertainment. That I might have inadvertently made some improvements was just a bonus.

"Chris and his wife took it out the day you left and were amazed at the improved performance."

"I specialize in mid-century engines and machines. I just prefer motorcycles due to their size and portability." I looked at the group and nodded my so-far-so-good to them.

"Be that as it may, you know, I'm a sentimental man and I've got something special coming up."

"Okay." I found myself motioning with my hand for him to go on and then realized he couldn't see me and I was putting on a display for my audience. Perfect.

"I'd like to have my little fleet checked out before the big party."

"Party?" There was no party in the offing any of us was aware of; it must be something new.

"My thirty-fifth anniversary with Maris is mid August and the entire family is coming. You and Stephanie are invited, of course. I just want the other boats to be in top form before everyone comes."

"When will the group be there? When's the party?" I asked looking at the sea of faces in the room.

"In six weeks. I'd like you to be here in a week so each boat can be overviewed, parts can be ordered and arrive."

"A week?"

"I know I'm putting you out, but my own mechanic wants to retire and he isn't as fast as he used to be."

"A week." I ran my fingers through my hair. I had gotten used to the idea of getting my freedom back, disentangling from Stephanie and moving into a new phase of my life. Going back, with or without her, hadn't figured into my plans. I should have left the God damned little speed boat the hell alone.

"I'll gladly pay you for your efforts, your airfare and anything else you might need while you're here. Please say yes. I'll make it worth your time."

"I need to talk with Stephanie about this, she's not home at the moment. I'll call you back this evening." As I said the words I was looking into her eyes. Did she want to go back? Was she distanced from me yet? Would we be able to continue to play the loving couple in public? How much longer would this go on?

I powered down the phone and took the battery out before I looked at the rest of the room. Just a couple of days ago I'd been looking forward to the prospect of regaining my freedom. I'd already mentally gone through the black book to see who might be available to play in the next week or so. Now it looked like the black book was going to stay locked away quite a while longer.

Ranger looked incredibly displeased, the other agency representatives looked stunned that something potentially very big was falling into their laps.

"Babe, if you don't want to go, I'll find a way to keep you stateside."

She looked at the sea of faces and focused on Ranger. "I want to make sure the job is successful; I mean that's why we've done all of this, isn't it?"

"Yes. You need to remember this is just a job and I can get you out whenever you say the word," he said looking between the two of us. "Babe, we'll talk about it privately after the meeting."

I already knew what he was going to say and how it would impact us both. I'd had an advanced meeting and knew what the new goal was going to be; she wasn't going to like it because she was going to be left in the dark so her reactions would be real. I was just glad I wasn't going to be the one to explain it to her.

~x~x~

After Stephanie met with Ranger for their discussion, I was told to prepare for a minor trip to Newark. It was just Stephanie, Ranger and me for a meeting with an undisclosed and undocumented party. There would be no official record of this meeting.

"What's in Newark?" I asked as we left the garage. "More importantly, who?"

"You'll see," Ranger said.

"Hey, do you mind if I call my chiropractor since we're going to be there anyway? My back gets sore when I don't sleep in my regular bed," Stephanie said.

I hadn't noticed her having much back pain when she slept at the house with me. Maybe the mattress was more lumpy at the compound than I thought. I've been known to sleep about anywhere making the most of the available opportunity for shut eye.

He nodded at her and handed her his phone. She dialed and had a brief discussion.

"He said he can fix me now if we hurry. Will that work for you, Ranger? I mean, it isn't like we are going to get much done this afternoon and I usually sleep after he's done working on me."

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Hey," I said to Ranger, "do you have any earplugs in here?"

"I probably have a pair in my equipment bag."

"You might want to check your supply before her appointment."

"Why?"

"Trust me." I've adjusted to the noises she makes when she is being worked on, but it still requires earplugs to get me through most of a session. Since we've been on a very intimate basis, it's almost harder for me to hear her make those noises when I am not the reason for them. I virtually always have at least one pair of earplugs in my pocket; self-preservation is important. Unfortunately today, my self-preservation skills were lacking and I didn't have any way to block the sounds that would soon be coming.

"I think I can handle it," Ranger said.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

We drove to Newark without any further discussion of earplugs or the chiropractor.

"Who are we supposed to see?" Stephanie asked.

"It's a meet and greet, Stephanie," Ranger said. "I'm just following directions from the GPS, I wasn't told who would be there."

We pulled up to a very familiar pink house. No way this could be right.

"Ranger, I thought we were supposed to meet someone," she said.

"We are. This is the address of our contact."

"Well shit. Looks like things are going to change completely," I said.

Stephanie was the first out of the vehicle, rang the doorbell, and went in. Ranger and I followed shortly after.

"Be right with you," the disembodied voice said.

Ranger looked around puzzled. I decided not to over think things. I found a magazine and sat in one of the chairs.

This time when the chiropractor made his appearance, he was dressed in a tie-dye shirt, tattered jeans, Birkenstock sandals and the requisite ponytail.

"Sleeping Beauty, how are you? It's been a while," he said to Stephanie as he came down the hall. "Looks like you're borrowing from more than one fairytale today."

"What?" she asked.

"Not just one Prince Charming today, but two. You must either be a very good girl or a very bad one," he said as he put his arm over her shoulder squeezing her to him. "You can tell me about it between moans."

"Moans? Excuse me?" Ranger asked.

"She makes the most fabulous noises when I help her get rid of tension and pressure," Joe said with a wink. "She's a great moaner, but I know I've got her where I want her when she screams. Only a very few of my clients are comfortable enough to give up all control and just scream when they need it."

"Babe?" Ranger asked in Stephanie's direction.

"What can I say? It just kind of happens. It isn't like I'm trying to be noisy," she said as she looked at Joe. "Are you ready to rock my world and make me feel all better?"

"Manny, do you want to come in this time?" Joe asked. "If not, I need to get started. I've got a full schedule today."

"Better to wait outside this time. Thanks for the offer, Joe," I said thumbing through the magainze.

The pair went into the office and the door closed with a gentle click.

"Now would be a good time to get earplugs from the truck," I said to Ranger.

"_Loosen your pants and lift your shirt up in the back for me. Now face down on the table," the chiropractor said._

"Loosen her pants? Lift her shirt?" Ranger asked looking pained.

"He works by feel. He says he's more efficient when has direct contact with her skin."

"You're okay with this?"

"He's a professional, Ranger. Relax. It isn't like he's going to hurt her." Right after I said that, she screamed.

Ranger tried to storm the door. I stopped him before he opened it.

"_That's my good girl," he said. "Are you ready to go again?"_

"_Not yet. I need to get my breath back. God, did it hurt so goooooooood."_

Several seconds later there was a sharp sound like pile of books falling to the floor followed by a long low moan.

"_I needed that," Stephanie said. "You're so good with your hands. I'm jealous of your wife."_

"_Yes, I know she's very lucky and so are you. That's why I'm the doctor and you're on my table. I think you are becoming addicted to how I can make your body feel. Are you sure your husband isn't jealous? Now quit talking and relax, will you? You are distracting me and I can't feel the next spot quite yet."_

"What is he doing to her?" Ranger asked.

"_Head down and quit wriggling. I can't feel anything when you're squirming like that."_

She giggled and was shushed a couple of times.

"_We're on the clock, Sleeping Beauty. Come on, work with me and relax so I can get this spot right here."_ There was another very sharp sound followed by a loan moan. _"I don't want to hit you twice unless you really want me to."_

"I decided 'don't ask, don't tell' was a good philosophy when she comes here. It's easier on everyone," I said as calmly as I could.

Ranger paced the living room and I tried to read a magazine. I read the opening paragraph of the same article about four times. Ranger walked out to the truck and came back with two cellophane packages containing earplugs.

"Thanks," I said opening the packet and rolling a piece of orange foam between my fingers.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"He's done when he's done. One time I got anxious when I was in the room with her, I was told not to question genius. I haven't repeated the question since." I inserted the first earplug into my ear and began to roll the other.

The doorbell rang and a man with a very familiar face came in and joined us in the waiting area. The blond man looked to be in his mid-fifties or early sixties somewhere and in pretty reasonable shape. The button down shirt, tie, dress slacks and loafers just didn't speak casual or easy. He was probably in sales. I wished I could place how I knew him.

Joe stuck his head out the door and said, "I'll be with you in a few minutes. I'm just finishing up with someone."

The man looked at us and said, "Aren't you guys next?"

"We're waiting for my wife," I said taking the orange wad. "She should be done soon."

At that moment Stephanie let out another load moan. I replaced the plug and returned to my reading.

When Joe opened the door several minutes later he said to me, "Take it easy on her the next several days. I worked her over pretty hard."

I nodded.

"Looks like the gang's all here," Joe said when he finished walking into the room. "Gentlemen, have you introduced yourselves?"

Ranger and I looked at each other and then back at Joe.

"No," I said. "Sorry Joe, let me introduce Ranger Manoso, this is Joseph Lipari. And we haven't had the privilege of meeting the other member of our party."

"Let me introduce you. Matt Saunders, this is Manuel Ramos and Carlos Manoso. Matt has been John's boat mechanic for years. He's one of my best friends," Joe said. I looked at Joe and then at Ranger. Joe went on, "The two of us are Aunt Susan."

Looks like I was negligent in my research, shame on me.

"What's your stake in this?" I asked. What would a chiropractor be doing heading up a multi-agency task force against his own brother–in-law?

"Matt and I are guaranteeing our retirement from the family business, which should be as soon as you come back from your next trip. Shall we?" he asked escorting us to a large dining table.

"What about Stephanie?" I asked.

"I've already told her what she needs to know from my point of view and that's to keep your cover, no matter what. She's agreed to not to ask too many questions about the particulars. She knows how important it is in the event things go pear shaped. For now, she needs to rest, she can sleep on the table but she won't be too comfortable there beyond a couple of minutes or you can move her to the sofa in the living room."

"I'll move her," Ranger said.

"No, I'll do it," I said as I headed back to the office. "Husbandly duty and all that."

Ranger cocked an eyebrow a fraction of an inch and then nodded imperceptibly.

I carried her from the office to the sofa and deposited her as gently as I could. I was about to head back to the kitchen when she put her arm around my neck, pulled me down and kissed me hard.

"Give me the Reader's Digest version when it's over, okay?" she asked. "You know I hate being kept in the dark.'"

I agreed and returned to the table.

The meeting was dry to say the least. I almost wished I was Stephanie so I could sleep through it, too.

After the meeting was over and Stephanie was awake, Joe said to her, "Don't forget, you need to drink a lot of water tonight or you'll be sore tomorrow."

"I'll probably be sore anyway," she said to him. "But thanks for the reminder."

"Because?" Ranger asked.

"Because I want to go back to yoga tonight. It's been over a week and I can tell my muscles have already tightened up and not in a good way."

"Right. I'll see you all at the videoconference in a few hours," Lipari said as he walked us to the door.

~x~x~

Late that same afternoon, everyone was in attendance when I called John back with my requests: total number of boats, a complete background on the makes/models of each boat; any and all maintenance records; off compound accommodations for Stephanie and me; and the ability to leave when the work was done.

He agreed to house us close to the pier, provide a vehicle for us when needed, and we could return home in the event of an emergency. We obtained permission leave the area when the work was done and have a bit of a honeymoon exploring the country, but he wanted me to remain available (read in the country) until the big party. He had a special surprise planned and he wanted to make sure Stephanie and I were there for it. He said it would change our lives. Was he going to adopt her?

He did have one additional caveat about letting us leave early, he wanted to be able to be in contact if we had the chance to travel. He also wanted pictures of the highlights. Because he went to the same place every year and saw the same people, he seldom got to see anything else in the country. I gave him the same generic e-mail address I used for Aunt Susan, easier to check one account.

About my fee, he was to pay half before we arrived, one quarter when half the boats were done, and the remainder at the party. The fee was substantial, too bad it was never going to be mine.

The agencies were pleased with the negotiations and Rangeman got a rather large bonus for the extension of the job. Ranger and his attorney negotiated an additional fee for the company to cover our continued expenses, the increased insurance, and lost revenues. My deal with the company remained in place and so did Stephanie's; nothing had changed as far as we were concerned other than an increase in her clothing allowance.

~x~x~

The next morning, I had another meeting with Ranger and Matt. The agenda was about the mechanics of what I could expect to find this time around, when to expect Matt to show up and things he knew I'd encounter. I scheduled time for Stephanie to be with Ella on six.

"I thought you'd bring her with you," Ranger said noticing I didn't have coffee this morning, just a bottle of water and the chair next to me was empty.

"She's here. She's with Ella."

"Ella?"

"Yeah. It is part of last night's negotiations. She has some domestic skills she needs to improve before we go back."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

Ella was teaching Stephanie how to sew buttons back on my shirts. Since I paid to replace the underwear I'd destroyed, she needed to learn how to put buttons back on my shirts. I can replace half a dozen pairs of panties, no sweat, but she'd pulled buttons off several of my shirts. It was getting expensive to live with her, so she could learn to sew the buttons back on or learn a little patience.

"Good enough," Ranger said. "Gentlemen, shall we begin?"

This time, there would be no focus on the guards and timetables, the focus was on the boats. Because each engine needed examination in the course of my _work_, each one could easily have a tracking device installed. I was also to look for any areas arms could be hidden. This trip wasn't going to be dull for me in any way, shape or form.

* * *

A/N: As always, Happy Manny Monday. I'm hoping you didn't see my little twist coming. Thanks again for reading and reviewing! Alf.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Do we need to keep repeating the disclaimer? I don't think so, either. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

**Expect the Unexpected Chapter 21  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

She packed four bags and three carryon bags for this trip. When she went to yoga, I evaluated the contents. I put most of it back and replaced the items with similar things from her side of the closet. I was almost done repacking her into two bags when she caught me.

"What did you do? You promised I could take more this trip," she said wagging her finger in front of my face.

"I never promised how much more you could take; you assumed you could take significantly more. Besides, two suitcases are more than one. I'm not dragging the entire closet with us. In the event we need to leave quickly, it's easier if there are fewer bags. Who do you think is going to have to lug them all?"

"Fine. Let's see what you put in the bags."

She scrutinized everything and made a face. "You took out the cute shorts and the camisole tank tops. Where are all the bikinis? Why do I have only one bikini and two one-piece bathing suits this time? I thought you liked me in a bikini."

"You're taking less revealing clothing this time. If I'm not going to be with you and you aren't with the family, I don't want anyone hassling you on the street. The more touristy and sexy you look, the bigger a temptation you are for either pick pockets or the seedier element. Trouble just finds you. If I'm worried about you, I'm distracted from the job at hand."

"But-" she said building a head of steam.

"Nieves, you don't speak the language. I'm not trying to make you upset, I'm just looking at it from the male perspective." I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath. "You make a beautiful peacock, but you shouldn't show _all_ of your feathers when you are alone and possibly vulnerable."

"Fine."

"Good."

"But the panties and bras are going to be sexy even if I'm the only one who knows it." If I hadn't known better, I would have thought she was getting ready to stick her tongue out at me.

I looked at her and shook my head.

"Okay, you'll know about the sexy stuff underneath, too," she said.

"I haven't taken that many things out of your bag." I removed about half, I still left twenty pairs of underwear and three bras. She could rinse the delicates out in the sink, besides, we were going to need to do laundry while we were gone anyway. "Remember, you promised not to wear panties under your skirts and dresses anymore, unless you are in church."

She licked her lips slowly, bit the lower one and said, "Oh yeah. Kind of forgot about that."

"See? That's why you like me. I think ahead." It was also the reason I'd packed more skirts than shorts or pants for her this trip. She probably wouldn't live up to our agreement, but I could still hope.

~x~x~

The flight was a commercial nonstop between Newark and Cancun. We were flown first class this time; it was much smoother than the chartered puddle jumper. I wasn't nearly as nervous, but that doesn't mean I enjoyed myself. Before we left, I got something from the doctor to reduce my nausea. Stephanie let me use her as a pillow again; there are a few benefits to not being the world's greatest passenger.

We were met by Albie and David at the airport and taken to a small hotel in town; it wasn't on the beaten path for tourists and didn't have an overabundance of amenities which was actually just fine. I wasn't going to spend a lot of time in the room except to sleep. We were still supposed to be in attendance for the evening meals and family get togethers.

The hotel was near the pier so I could walk from the room to go to work. There was even a little café I could use if I wanted to take a load off or meet Stephanie if she didn't join the other wives on a day trip. It was tiny, only about ten or twelve rooms total with a communal lounge. No pool, no Jacuzzi, no tennis courts; if Stephanie wanted the amenities, she was welcome to use them at the compound.

Arrangements had already been made at the front desk that we were to get the VIP treatment. Anything we wanted was to be made available to us at any time, no questions asked and no expense spared. All of our expenses were being billed to the Russos, per our agreement.

We weren't out of the woods when it came to the bugs or other recording devices though. We were staying at the facility of someone else's choice and at his expense. No doubt the room had been altered to observe us, maybe not as many bugs but bugs nonetheless. I know Stephanie was aware of it, just like I was.

The room was decent sized with a small sitting area, writing desk, and queen size bed. It was all very standard, we did get extra pillows and towels.

"The bed is bigger this time," she said sounding a little disappointed.

I shrugged my shoulders; it didn't matter to me as long as the mattress was decent.

"I kind of liked the smaller bed last time," she said wistfully. "It was kind of cozy sleeping on a double."

"It isn't that much bigger," I said. "Did you notice, its a slotted headboard. That could be fun."

"Is that why you packed so many scarves for me?" she asked not meeting my eyes.

"I only packed five scarves and it was probably just wishful thinking, unless you're game later."

"We'll see."

~x~x~

Nothing went well the first day. My helpers didn't help. My sun block didn't block anything. The café didn't want to serve the workers from the pier or me until I had a rather animated conversation with the owner and I produced my ID. I was a little resentful and out of sorts as I headed back to the room. I still had to go to dinner with Stephanie and the family. I wasn't in the mood, not even close, to cope with anything else. All I wanted was a shower and clean clothes, maybe a short nap.

To get to the room, I had to walk across the lobby. A very well dressed man almost ran across the space to talk to me. He spoke to me in Spanish, in an incredibly condescending tone, and said I wasn't presentable. He said I shouldn't let the tourists see me.

"Why not? My woman looks at me when I'm like this," I said. "She doesn't mind."

"Your personal life is your own, but this is a respectable facility."

"I'm respectable."

"We have very important guests staying with us for the next several days. I don't want them bothered by staff."

"Important guests? Good for you. Excuse me." I continued my attempt to cross the room. He got in front of me again.

"I can have you fired if you don't leave."

"I'd like to watch you do it."

Just then Stephanie appeared at the far side of the room. She wrinkled her nose as she walked toward me. I don't know how she expected me to look, but it was obvious this wasn't it.

"See, you're offending one of our important guests," he said.

"No, I'm not and I can prove it," I said. In English I called, "Hey, mamacita, how about a little kiss?" Then I waggled my eyebrows for good measure and made kissy-lips at her.

The man looked horrified, even more so when she actually crossed the lobby and gave me a quick peck.

"You'll get a better one after you clean up," she said. "Cariño, I was just coming to look for you. We need to be at the Russo's in about an hour."

Her eyes were sparkling, light but vibrant; somewhere between the color of a pale blue topaz and one that's called London blue. Her eyes are the most expressive part of her face, nothing is ever hidden if you just have the courage to look.

The manager apologized profusely in English; he was horrified when he connected the dots and figured out that we were Mr. Russo's guests. I guess when I'm in cutoffs, old shoes and a dirty wife beater that's full of holes I don't look like anyone's guest, much less an important one.

I accepted the apology and said, "No pasa nada."(no problem; not a big deal) It was then I realized that I had lost the cultured accent that all the expensive tutors the company paid for; it was gone. I sounded like a kid from a border barrio, and that is who I am. The more Spanish I used with the various workers, the more I sounded like myself. The slurring of words, the contractions, the idioms of my youth were back and in full force. I realized I spoke _proper_ Spanish when I was with authority figures or people I didn't know.

The whole lobby scene made me think of a scene from Pretty Woman, except I was Julia Roberts. Wonder how Stephanie might look in boots like that? Now that could be fun.

Dinner that night was basically a progress report on the overall status of the boats, the pier, my workers, and the conditions. The last time we were treated like family; this time it felt like employer/employee meeting, and that's what it was. It made things awkward for the others around the table; we left as early as possible. There were no open sneers, but I could feel them from David, Albie and Chris nonetheless.

~x~x~

"Stephanie, can you please stop using my razor?" I asked as I plastered the third piece of toilet paper to my face the next morning.

"Sorry." Did she sound penitent or contrite? No.

"Didn't you pack your own razor?" She did the last time, and about a dozen blades for the thing, too, all for ten days.

"My blade is too dull to use anymore," she said. "And you hate it when I go to bed and my legs are all prickly. You weren't complaining about the smooth shave last night."

No, I hadn't complained, but I didn't realize she'd dulled my razor to get it. Next time I shave I'm going to check whose razor is dull and whose isn't. "Put a new blade in yours," I said getting a closer look at myself in the mirror. When did those lines start to show beneath my eyes?

"I don't have any."

"If you quit using my blade, you can use my razor. I've got spare blades."

"Deal. Just remember, you were the one who wanted me to cut down on the number of things I take when we travel."

"I didn't mean your razor blades." I meant the extra shoes and all of the body lotions.

"Promise. But hurry up. We're going to be late."

That morning Stephanie didn't want to join the wives or do anything at the compound, she wanted to watch me work, cuts on my face and all. After breakfast and mass, I walked her to the café, set up a tab, and asked the manager to hold her table for her for the day even if she wandered. I ordered lunch for the crew and me to be delivered around noon; they treated me more seriously when I was clean and smelled fresh than they did yesterday. I had my hair pulled into a leather thong to keep it out of my face when I looked down, and I had another leather strap around my neck with my ring knotted into it. The only thing about me that looked expensive were the sunglasses, designer and mirrored.

Things go more smoothly when I decide to slow down and take my time. I'd rather be methodical and meticulous the first time than go back and constantly find things I missed because I was in a hurry. I hadn't gone into the engine room for the day yet when I heard the guys evaluating the local talent. I was fiddling with the wires on a couple of gauges; the wiring was good but needed a little tightening.

"Hey, boss, what kind of woman is your type?" Martin asked.

"I don't know, long blonde hair, big tits, pale skin. Why?" It was the standard answer to the question.

"Good, she's not your type. She's my type," Martin said.

"Who?" I asked. I still hadn't raised my head to see what they were looking at.

"Just a woman who keeps walking down the pier looking this way," Martin said. "She's hot."

"You're nuts, she's my type," Franco said.

"She'd never go for you," Martin said. "So it doesn't matter if she's your type or not."

The conversation went back and forth all morning, with the passing of time it became more animated and more speculative. It was reminiscent of listening to Lester and Zero make their decisions at a bar on which woman to approach for the evening. While I'd been party to those conversations, I usually kept my own counsel. Today was no different.

Lunch was delivered. I ate. I returned to work. I answered questions about the engines and worked some more. Tomorrow I was going to buy a radio to drown these clowns out.

I walked back to the hotel from the pier alone, Stephanie cut at noon to shop with one of the wives. John's son came by with Matt, the previous mechanic. Since this was supposed to be our initial meeting, we played it very casually. Matt didn't seem overly pleased with the way I was working on the engines or the way I worked with the staff. He never talked to anyone and delegated precious little, it's part of why he'd had the job for so long. I delegated as much as possible, I'd sign off on the work when it was complete, but there was no need for me to do one-hundred percent.

The next day was a rerun of the first, sans nicks on my face. When I was nothing more than a walking hormone, I had Rita. She was the love of my life and the only girl I was with before I got married. I may have looked at the scenery, but I never talked about it in front of strangers. These clowns had no class and less respect.

"She's back," Franco said.

"Yeah, cause she noticed me," Martin said.

"She's here to look at me," Franco said. "She wants me, it's obvious."

"Work or you don't get paid," I growled. I hadn't bothered to look at who they were so intrigued by, it was none of my business. "It doesn't matter who she is or whose type she is. Gawk on your own time."

"But she's fine. I know I could make time with her if I had a chance," Martin said.

I took two steps back and said, "Point her out."

They both eagerly pointed to a woman in a turquoise t-shirt, beige skirt, sandals and a floppy straw hat. She was walking away from us toward the café. She didn't look back and acknowledge any of us. She sat at a table, picked up a book, and appeared to be lost to everything around her.

"Give it your best shot," I said to Franco. "I bet you can't get her to come back here with you."

"What? Of course I can get her to come back with me."

"Yes, go and we'll watch. Let me know what she says when she turns you down."

He straightened his clothes and sauntered up the pier to the café. I would have given anything to have heard his opening line. She remained seated as he came back.

"What did she say?" I asked.

"She smiled and just shook her head."

"Maybe she doesn't speak Spanish," I said.

"I tried to talk to her in English, too."

"That's too bad. Martin, you should give it a try."

Martin didn't have to be asked twice; he flew up the pier and came to a skidding halt at the table. This time she smiled, shook her head, and remained seated. He was more persistent, he tried for three minutes before he threw in the towel.

"Do you think I've got a shot?" I asked. "I'd put money on the fact I can not only get her to come with me, but I can get her to kiss me."

"Not gonna happen. If she turned us down, no way is she going to come with you, much less kiss you," Martin said.

"Sure, she's gonna talk to you; she talked to both of us and we're much better looking. I don't think she'll even smile at you," Franco said. "She's out of your league."

Really? I like a challenge. "Anyone want to put money where their mouth is?" I asked. "You guys can cut out two hours early on me if I lose."

"If you win?" Martin asked.

"Two hours free labor from you," I said.

"It's a sucker bet," Martin said. "I can use with two hours off. I'm in."

"Franco, you in?" I asked.

He nodded.

I didn't bother to straighten my clothes. I did take an extra swig of water before I made the short walk. This was going to be fun and I'm always up for a little fun.

I got to her table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Come here often?" It was a lame opening line, but it worked more times than not.

"I'm just visiting," she said smiling.

I picked up her hand and kissed it. "I'll be here for two weeks, if you want to get together. We could be good together."

"I don't know. See, there's this man in my life who's kind of jealous." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and looked very serious before she continued, "I'd hate for anything to happen to you. You seem like a nice guy."

"I am a nice guy. But I like to live dangerously." I winked at her and gave her what I thought of as a wicked smile.

"How dangerously?" she asked leaning into me. "He's told me to be careful when I'm on my own. He trusts me, but doesn't trust people he doesn't know. He's a little over protective."

"Not a problem. I've been told I have an honest face. I'm a trustworthy guy." I closed the gap between us and kissed her. It was a comfortable and slow kiss, very warm and clingy.

"Oh, you aren't trustworthy at all." She smiled when she said it, a good sign.

"Walk with me for a minute, please?" I asked as I kissed her again just because I could. "I'll make sure you get back to your reading soon. Please?"

She rose from the table and walked next to me down the pier.

Martin and Franco both looked shocked to see that not only could I get her to walk with me, but I'd gotten her to kiss me and I hadn't been slapped for it.

The questions in Spanish started immediately. The questions were rapid fire and tumbled out of them one on top of the other.

"How'd you do it?"

"Why would she agree to go with you?"

"What did you say?"

"Gentlemen, I was just myself," I said.

She looked at me, poked me in the middle and asked, "Introduce us? That's why I'm here, right?"

"No problem. But I need to settle something first," I said as I kissed her on the nose. I looked at the guys and said, "You two will meet me an hour early the next two days."

My comment was met with groans as they reluctantly agreed.

"Franco, Martin, I'd like to introduce you to Stephanie."

She shook their hands and then leaned into me. "Nice to meet you both. Cariño, I should head back now. I'm sure I'm distracting all of you and preventing you from doing what you need to accomplish."

"Back to work," I said over my shoulder to the guys. "No more loafing."

"What was that about?" she asked as I walked her back to the little café.

"They thought you were their type."

"That's sweet."

"Some of the things they said about you were far from sweet," I said. "Oh and wear pants or shorts tomorrow."

"Why?"

"You remember why." I briefly rubbed her bottom through the thin fabric of her skirt. She moved my hands up to her waist and tried to give me a stern look; the look would have worked but for the smile.

"So you decided to lay your claim in front of them?" she asked. "I'm not so sure how I feel about being your private property." She lowered her voice and said quietly, "You just don't like the idea of me being commando when you can't do anything about it. Right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. And no gloating. Do you want anything while I'm here?"

"No, I'm good. I'm just about to find out who the murderer was," she said. "Oh and by the way, just because you try to make macho demands on me, doesn't mean I listen to you. I've got on the lacy, pink boyshorts you like so well."

"I think that makes it worse."

"Good. Now off with you."

"I want to play hooky now."

"One of us is supposed to work. Now go."

I kissed her again knowing we were being watched, so while it was nice, it wasn't as satisfying as kisses we shared in private. "Will you wait for me?"

"How long?"

"Should be done a little before five. We're making good time today. We'll make even more time now that they won't be distracted by you."

"I'll be here when you get done, now go. Murder waits for no one," she said fanning the book in front of me. "Shoo."

I returned to the boat and to even more questions.

"Give it up, who is she? Why would she be interested in you?" Martin asked.

"Because she is," I said lifting the leather thong with the ring attached, "mi mujer." (my woman)

"I'm not coming in early," Franco said. "You set us up."

"Yes, you are. You never asked if I might already know her."

"But you're old and she's hot. She should have a young stud," Martin said pointing at himself.

Martin said, "You told us your type had long blonde hair. She's a brunette."

"True, but she is mine. You really don't want to keep your job, do you?" I asked.

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, work."

The next several days, work progressed at a consistent pace. There were fewer speculations about the women who were at the pier, at least fewer in my hearing. Then again, I had them working in the engine rooms while I evaluated things on the main deck and got pictures of the cabins.

Stephanie joined the wives shopping part of the time, laid out by the pool at the compound, or read at the café. She seemed to split her time fairly equally. The days she was at the café, she made sure to be there for lunch and ate with the three of us; it had a very domestic feel about it. She was getting bored, but her job was to send e-mails every two days and be my cover, nothing more, nothing less.

"It has been so boring this trip," she said one morning after mass.

In her world, it was true. There had been no explosions, fires, stalkers, kidnappings, or even gunshots. She hadn't so much as skinned a knee or ripped a fingernail. The worst injury she'd suffered was a slice out of her shin when she used a brand new blade when she shaved her legs. As far as I was concerned things were proceeding at the designated pace per plan.

"A well run job isn't supposed to be exciting," I said, "or an adrenaline rush."

"But when I've worked with Ranger or Morelli-" she said.

"I'm not Morelli or Ranger. I like things to be smooth. This job is smooth. With a little luck, no one will remember any of the photos that have been taken, where we've been or who we've talked to."

"Without luck?"

"You may as well be working with Ranger."

"You're pompous."

"Yes and I believe in living to see another day. Get used to being bored, Nieves."

* * *

A/N: Manny isn't being disrespectful of either Ranger or Morelli - the only place he likes things to be unpredictable is in the bedroom.

Happy Manny Monday to all, and thanks in advance for reading and reviewing.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimers: No tengo dinero. Oh well.

A/N: Warning for smut and a bit of emotional exposure.

**Expect the Unexpected 22  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

Jorge had given me the use of the Range Rover I'd repaired with him earlier. He sensed that I'd want some freedom and he felt he owed me the favor. I took the favor, but didn't take the vehicle out much, except to the compound for dinners. I checked to see if there were monitoring devices, there were. I left them in place and functional; no point in raising concern or suspicion.

Friday evening was a formal _family _dinner with the Russo bunch. I didn't have to give a public progress report, I made a point to talk to John before each dinner so we could get business out of the way. Because of it, we no longer seemed to bear the stigma of being employees.

This dinner, the chef was showing off his skills; I quit counting courses at six. The food on the plate was pretty, but there wasn't enough of it. At this rate, I'd need eighteen courses to feel even a little satisfied; two leaves of endive with olive oil and capers just doesn't do much for me.

After approximately course thirteen, a sliver of tomato with mozzarella cheese, basil and olive oil, I excused myself. I was hoping to find something to eat in the kitchen, or Stephanie and I were going to find some place local to eat before we went to bed. I can listen to my own stomach gurgle during the night, but hers could be loud enough to wake the dead.

I was turned from the kitchen door twice in my quest for nourishment. As I returned to the table when I overheard what was supposed to be a private conversation in the adjacent hallway.

"You don't belong with him," I heard a baritone voice say. "You should be with me."

"Leave me the hell alone, David," a woman's voice answered. "I'm serious."

If I didn't know better, I'd think the voice was Stephanie's.

"You want me, Stephanie," he said. "Admit it."

It was Stephanie. What the hell?

"No. I don't. I have a good man. Let go of my arm, I wouldn't want to be you if I have to explain a bruise to him. You and I are NOT having this conversation again. Ever."

_Again?_

There was a muffled noise followed by Stephanie's voice.

"David, I said NO the last time. I meant it then and I mean it now. The answer isn't going to change and I want you to leave me alone."

"He's much older than you are, isn't he?"

There was no audible answer.

"He probably can't keep up with you. Not only can I keep up with you, but I can give you a run for your money."

"He's more than enough man for me. He's a good person who always treats me fairly," she said. "He's honest with me and he's faithful to me. What's it going to take for you to get it? I'm not interested in you."

"But you don't say anything about loving him."

"What I feel for him is none of your concern. I don't ask you how you feel about your wife, do I? Sandra would be horrified to hear this conversation. She hangs the moon on you."

"Are you faithful to him? More importantly are you so sure he's faithful to you?"

"Of course I'm faithful to him, why wouldn't I be? He's unlike any other man I've known."

There was some indistinct mumbling before I heard him again.

"Who are you trying to convince, yourself or me?"

"I don't have to justify anything to you, David. You need to play in your own sandbox. As far as Manny being faithful, of course he's faithful to me, we made promises to each other."

"Men break their promises all of the time."

"He doesn't, he wouldn't."

"Don't be so sure about that. And for the record, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."

"I need to get to the table before he comes back. Excuse me."

I slipped into a bathroom, washed and dried my hands, and returned to our table. I pulled out my chair and seated myself next to her, "Miss me?"

"Cheeky tonight aren't you, Cariño? You weren't even gone five minutes." She smiled at me but it was forced, the strain was showing.

"Long enough," I said. I ran my finger up and down her neck resting it along her collarbone before whispering into her ear, "Anything you want to tell me, Nieves?"

"Of course not. But I think I'd like to go back to the room though."

"Feeling okay?"

"It's just getting crowded and stuffy in here. Besides, if I stay much longer you're going to make me go on an extra long hike tomorrow to pay for the two desserts I'll eat if I stay," she said removing her napkin from her lap, placing it alongside her plate. "If you will all excuse me."

I kissed her lightly before she stood. I didn't wait to make our excuses. She didn't know that I'd heard the conversation in the hallway. I felt mixed about it. I was pleased she'd held her cover and angered that someone would hit on what was mine, mine for the short term.

We drove through town and found a taco stand that was still open. I bought half a dozen tacos to split. I ate mine, she ate half of one. I didn't question her, but wrapped the remainder in napkins to take back to the room.

I took off my pants and tie and put on a pair of shorts. I left the button down on, it was going to need to be laundered anyway. She removed her makeup and was in the alcove next to the bathroom brushing her teeth.

"Hey," I said. "You okay? It isn't like you to leave before dessert."

"Just a long day. You know, I'd like a day away from everyone else. Do you think we can swing that?"

"Yeah. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Just time alone."

"We can do that," I said putting my hands around her waist and moving into her body. "You looked beautiful tonight." I kissed the top of her shoulder. There was an unspoken rule that we had to dress for dinner; we followed as many rules as possible. Tonight she had on a gauzy dress with a flowing skirt, it was a pale pink color; not her typical style but it looked comfortable and fit the dress code.

"Right now I look like a panda. I've got eye liner and mascara down the front of my face." She didn't have a trace of makeup on her face, but she did look paler than usual.

"I like pandas, always have."

"Good to know. I'll remember it if we ever go to the zoo together."

She turned in my arms and kissed me. It was a very tentative kiss, kind of like she was uncertain of how it was going to be received.

"You aren't okay tonight. Tell me about it?" I asked moving the hair away from her face trying to look into her eyes; they were a washed out blue, kind of like a pair of old jeans.

"No," she said running her hand up my chest. "No words tonight. No explanations."

She kissed me again and began to unbutton my shirt.

I covered her hands with mine. It isn't that I have an objection to being naked with her, but this just didn't feel right. This was somber and very melancholy. When I opened my mouth to say something, she put her finger over my lips and said, "Hush. I need this, please."

I kissed her finger to let her know that she could do whatever she needed.

She slowly and methodologically undressed me, placing my now folded, discarded clothing on the dresser. She gave me her back and lifted her hair so I could unzip her dress. Following her lead, I folded it and placed in on the dresser.

She took pillows from the sitting area and the bed and arranged them so it was almost like a bolster. She had me get on the bed, I wasn't lying down and I wasn't quite sitting up. She straddled my thighs and said, "I want you to look at me tonight and breathe when I breathe."

I'd been watching her constantly, she was mesmerizing. At times I felt that she was the headlight and I was the deer. I nodded my head minutely to let her know she'd been heard.

She positioned herself over me and lowered her body slowly. I tried to thrust to meet her, be deeper, make the experience more.

"No, Manny. All I want you to do right now is breathe with me," she said with a kiss.

She began to slowly squeeze and relax her pelvic muscles. It was torture and it was perfect. We maintained the position for what felt forever. She began moving slowly, almost delicately; it was all very deliberate and excruciatingly sexy. It was killing me, I don't do slow often although I enjoy it.

"You are a good woman," I said quietly.

"Thank you." She sounded uncertain.

"Beautiful. Funny. Loyal. Strong," I whispered. "Te lo juro." (I swear it.) I elaborated on the things I thought about her in Spanish, she would have argued and killed the mood if I'd said a single one in English.

Her lips quivered in response; her eyes locked on mine. "You can have control now, if you want it," she said.

"It's perfect the way it is," I said. "It's incredibly connected."

"I know," she said leaning into me changing her angle. "I've wanted it this way for a long time."

I began to thrust some, but kept it shallow to extend the connection. She pushed to increase the momentum, obtain more friction. She brought herself off twice before I finally came.

She moved her legs so they were alongside mine and used me as a full body pillow. "Sorry, I got a little cramped," she said.

"I believe it."

"Can we stay like this for a while? I'm not too heavy for you, am I?"

"If you're comfortable, I'm comfortable," I said with a yawn. "Will you tell me what's going on now?"

"Nothing's going on," she said taking my hand in hers and kissing it. "I just want you to breathe with me."

The next morning, I tried to get her to talk to me while we were still in bed and she was still on top of most of my body. Conversationally, she stonewalled me at every turn.

"Stephanie, what was all that about last night?" I asked as I brushed hair away from her eyes and out of her face.

"Hormones?"

"No bullshit, this is me. You know you can tell me anything, right? Try again."

"I don't want to talk about it," she said as she lowered her head back onto my chest.

"If I can do anything, ever, just ask. You know that, right?" I said.

"New day, new attitude. What are we going to do today? You promised me a day away from everyone." She was shooting for an upbeat tone, but wasn't very convincing of it.

"We'll come up with something," I said. "We'll talk about it after church."

"Can we skip it today?"

"If you want to." She'd been a good sport about going, but if we were going to leave for the day, I'd need to get out from under her in about three minutes.

"Do you know what really bothers me?" she asked looking up at me and worrying her lip.

"No."

"When people don't believe in me, don't trust me."

"Me, too. And so you know, I believe in you and I trust you with my life." I stroked her hair and her back while I whispered words of reassurance and comfort to her in Spanish. In the past when I tried to reassure her in English she interrupted me or tried to debate me; this was easier for both of us.

We spent a casual and unscripted day away from everyone. We went to the local tourist traps, while watching for guards from the compound. There were none who made themselves visible, but I was aware of them. You shadow people long enough, you recognize your own shadow and ours had grown significantly.

We found an arcade and played video games; she excelled at the shooting games. Too bad no one had thought of using those in the past to develop her hand eye coordination. I hate video games; I prefer pinball even though it shows my age.

We bought new clothes to wear on a date that evening; we decided we'd put on the dog for our date. A small seafood restaurant with a nice variety was highly recommended by several people. After dinner, we found a jazz club that offered a little dancing and a lot of opportunity to sway.

The shadows followed us at a discrete distance on the drive home, at least someone would help me with road side service in case the truck broke down.

~x~x~

We'd been gone little over a week and I finished the lion's share of the work on the four boats, mid-century yachts more precisely, in nine days; I only took off the one day with Stephanie. The sooner I was done, the sooner things could be tested and we might regain our freedom.

The current accommodations had limited television and no radio. We had already read the books and magazines we had with us, so we decided to turn in early. I'd had hopes for a little excitement; instead, I got pillow talk. We never did pillow talk. We had sex and we slept, we didn't talk in bed outside of certain requests. Moaning doesn't count as talking, neither does begging. Now she wanted to talk, perfect.

"Manny, what are your plans when the job is over?" she asked into my neck. She was lying on top of me, still partially clothed. Things hadn't gotten interesting quite yet.

"Go back to being alone. You've been great company, but I'm not built to live with anyone." I knew the room was semi safe to speak freely, but still didn't feel comfortable about it.

"Oh," she said as she scrambled off of me and onto her own side of the bed.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph, but I was part of a big family and I lived in barracks for years or had roommates or a wife. The last several years, I've determined my own plans, my own agenda, my own life. I hate having to check in with someone."

"Got it." She rolled onto her back and pulled the spare pillow from under my head.

"You're taking it wrong."

"No. You want to be the captain of your own dingy. Got it. Don't you ever want someone else to take the helm? Don't you ever get lonely?"

All of the time. "There's being lonely and being alone. What are you going to do when this is over?"

"I don't know. I'd like to go back to what I did before, but I doubt that will be possible. I'll probably wind up keeping up with the yoga, it's been great for my rear."

We'd previously agreed not to use the words bounty hunter in public, it was always referred to as 'what I did before' or something along those lines.

When she'd moved into my house, we'd agreed not to talk about life after the job. We were crossing one bridge at a time. There was to be no looking back and no worry or plans about the future. I knew my future was going to be vastly different when I got home, provided I stayed in Jersey. Now I couldn't stop thinking about the changes in store for me and the life I would lead when we crossed back to US soil.

"I'd like to see you keep up your training," I drew her back into me; I actively sought her touch on a regular basis. Tonight I didn't just seek full body contact, I craved it knowing it was something I wouldn't have for a long time to come.

"I never thought I'd be bitten by the travel bug, but now that I have, I think I'll probably put it on my list of things to do before I die," she said.

"Any place in particular?"

"Italy, I think. I've always wanted to see how _real_ Italian food compares to my mom's, you know?" She moved my arm off her torso and shifted to her side.

Before I could respond, she edged her body to the far end of the bed and away from me.

"Night, Manny," she whispered into her pillow.

"What's wrong?" I had an idea. I didn't want it confirmed.

"Nothing."

"Nothing means something, even I know that much. If you don't want to talk, we won't talk," I said. "Sweet dreams, Nieves."

This was the first night since the relationship became physical that we didn't have sex. It was nice to know we could just sleep together; I was addicted to the release and craved it but I wouldn't push her for it. I placed my hand on her hip, just for the connection and she flinched; so I pulled it back. After two hours I couldn't sleep, I couldn't get comfortable. I moved her back to the middle of the bed, and placed my arm across her waist. I was almost asleep when I felt her fingers interlock with mine. Maybe she craved the contact, too.

~x~x~

"You need to cut out early this afternoon," she said after she brushed her teeth. She sounded like nothing unusual happened last night. If she could deny it, so could I.

"Why?" I asked shaking the can of shaving cream.

"Because I have a surprise for you. Oh and don't shave today," she said as she took the can from my hands and put it on the vanity next to the sink. "Sometimes I like it when you're all scruffy."

"Oh really?" I actually prefer to be clean shaven, my face just feels better. I looked at my watch and realized just how late in the morning it was; after a sleepless night, and not in a good way, when sleep finally came, we stayed in bed longer than usual. "No time to give you a proper whisker burn this morning."

"There's time for an improper one, isn't there?" she asked taking my hand leading me back to the bed.

"Not if I'm going to leave early today. What time do you want me back?"

She counted back on her fingers to get a tally. "About two hours early, but three would be better," she decided. "Come straight here, don't pass go and don't collect two hundred dollars."

"Yes, ma'am. Am I allowed to take a shower before I leave?" I turned on the taps to warm the water.

"Want to conserve water?" she asked.

"That takes twice as long as if I do it alone." Why not? I'm heading up this little project, I can be late if I want to be.

"You're right, you don't want don't be late and set a bad example." She snapped a towel on my backside. "Don't forget to be aware of your surroundings, Manny."

It felt odd all day to think about what kind of surprise Stephanie had for me. Considering this was an acting gig, she was making it very elaborate. I'm not sure how I felt about that.

When I opened the door, the curtains were closed and just a small lamp was lit at the far side of the room. There was note written in lipstick on the mirror over the dresser.

_Happy Birthday, Manny  
XOXOX Nieves_

I pushed a button on my watch to light up the date; it was my birthday. In my defense, I never talk about my birthday. I haven't celebrated it or marked it for years; no point except to make me feel older and remind me I have no one to celebrate it with. I looked around the room and noticed the bathroom door was closed. I knocked and called, "Stephanie?"

"Come on in," she said. "Happy birthday, Manny. I've got a couple of small presents for you in here."

Stephanie was sitting in a tub full of bubbles, hair pinned up, and wicked smile on her face. Her eyes were full of mischief and incredibly bright as though the mischief was about to begin.

"How did you know it was my birthday?" I asked.

"Hello? Same last name, live together, remember me?"

On the countertop were four small nicely wrapped presents, a cold bottle of tonic water and a glass.

"You shouldn't have," I said opening the bottle and pouring some into the glass. I took a sip, there's something about the bite from tonic water that appeals to my taste buds.

"But I did. It isn't much. Remember it's the thought that counts. Come on, open them."

The first package was a new can of shaving cream. I was going through a copious amount since Stephanie had moved in, it never occurred to me that she was using mine every other day or so. The next was a package of blades to a razor I didn't own.

"Stephanie, the blades don't match the razor I use," I said as I took another sip of the soda.

"You need to open all the packages."

I opened a small package that held an aftershave in it that I didn't recognize. I opened it and took a whiff. It was earthy with a hint of cinnamon. I think Stephanie is coming to appreciate my favorite flavor and favorite scent.

"You didn't pack any aftershave and I miss smelling it on your neck and your clothes," she said by way of explanation. "I know it isn't your usual, but I really like this one. It gives me warm fuzzies when I smell it."

I leaned over the edge of the tub and kissed her. "What happens when you get the warm fuzzies?" I asked.

She flicked a little water at me and said, "I think you can figure that out all by yourself."

The final package had two razors in different colors. These razors matched the blades.

"So now you decide who has which color handle," she said. "For the record, whichever one is in the tub is mine by default. That should make it easy to remember, right?"

"Sure." Same-same to me. Fewer nicks and scrapes was a present all in itself. "Thanks." These were the first presents I'd gotten from anyone in years and they were pretty practical. Why did I feel a little disappointed?

"Oh and Manny, can you help me?" she asked.

"Maybe. Care to elaborate?" I don't volunteer unless I know the assignment ahead of me.

"It's like this," she said trying to sound shy and failing at it miserably, "I've been missing some patches lately when I shave and I don't want to cut myself again on a fresh blade. I didn't pack very many bandages. Well, you get the idea." She smiled and batted her lashes at me, I knew it was a ploy so she could have her wicked way with me and I didn't care. "So will you?"

"Definitely," I said as I shucked my clothes. This could be fun. "Are there specific problem areas?"

"Wherever you want them to be."

"Happy birthday to me," I said as I stepped into the tub facing her.

"Exactly."

After _everything_ was smooth to our mutual satisfaction, she said, "I forgot. We have to go to dinner tonight."

"Let's eat in. I'm sure someone delivers. Plus, it's my birthday, they'll forgive us."

"Uh, no. No such luck. It's a command performance tonight arranged by Maris herself just for your birthday. You, birthday boy, are the guest of honor."

"And how did she know?"

"Well?" She tried hard not to smile, it didn't work; she was beaming.

"How long do we have before we're supposed to be there?"

"An hour, give or take."

"In that case, we've got forty minutes for our own game of give and take," I said.

"Lucky me."

"I know."

An hour and a half later, I changed into nice dress slacks and new white shirt Stephanie had laid out for me. Stephanie had on another of those gauzy dresses, this one in an off-white with delicate hand embroidery on the yolk and at the hemline of the skirt. She paired the dress with flat sandals, not her usual look, but nice all the same. She must have done a lot of shopping in recent days, I didn't recognize either the dress or the shoes.

"Act surprised," she whispered. "This is a big deal to Maris."

I don't remember much of the party, it was one of the few times I decided to drink. I hadn't planned to drink anything at all, however, I changed my mind after John took me aside and handed me a large beige envelope.

"This is as much for you as it is for Stephanie," he said. "Go on, open it."

I pulled the Swiss Army knife from my pocket and slit the envelope open. I hardly had the pages out before John said, "Congratulations." It was Stephanie's annulment from Dickie Orr. John Russo moved mountains in next to no time. It should have been six to eighteen months to get it through the system. He'd done it in less than a full month.

"This is totally unexpected," I said looking around for something, anything to drink. "I don't know what to say other than 'thank you'."

"Just remember we all want what's best for the pair of you," he said slapping a hand on my shoulder.

I smiled and said, "She won't know what to say. Thank you again."

"Let's rejoin the party."

Dinner was a complete blur. Evidently the buffet had all of my favorite foods. There was plenty of toasting, eating, and storytelling. At one point we were all ushered into another room that had a bunch of candles and a small mariachi band. The only two things I remember distinctly about being in there was when Stephanie pressed something into my hands as my official birthday present and a bunch of people chanting 'kiss … kiss … kiss' until I kissed her.

The next morning, I was more than a little hung over. I haven't heard a herd of elephants dancing inside my head for years.

"What day is it?" I groaned.

"Ouch. I think it's Saturday," she answered in a gravely, dry voice. "You okay? Do you remember anything?"

I tried to lift my head from the pillow; it felt like it was glued down. "We had dinner and there was music, you gave me a present, after that I have nothing. What did you give me?"

"I got you a rosary, you didn't bring one and I feel weird watching you pray and counting on your fingers. I hope you like it. As to last night, I pretty much remember what you remember, except there was applause for something."

My head was screaming for aspirin and traditional relief. "The rosary is perfect. Thank you. I know what I need right now. Menudo. I need menudo."

"What's menudo?"

"Mexican hangover cure. You can usually get it on the weekends." I tried again and got my head, neck and shoulders off the bed, the rest of me was still stuck.

"What's in it?"

"If I tell you, you won't try it. Help me up and we'll go eat." It's great stuff, provided you don't ask too many questions. When I was a kid, my grandmother always made a big pot of menudo on the weekends; the idea of it made my mouth water.

"If it's awful?"

"If you don't like it, I'll find French fries and a Coke for you, but they won't taste like McDonald's."

Before we left, I took the packet of papers and put them in the backpack with the computer. She was in better shape than I was, so she carried the bag and her purse.

After we ate, we sent an e-mail to Aunt Susan about Stephanie's annulment and a thank you to John and Maris for making it all possible. I ordered a large floral bouquet to be delivered to the compound to further our thanks. Had I really understood the entirety of the gift, I might have sent a smaller arrangement.

* * *

Happy Manny Monday to all! As always I thank you fo reading and reviewing.

now, just how long do you think they can maintain domestic bliss?


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Men are like Cat Toys and should be treated as such, especially MM - that's why they are so much fun to play with ... and they don't have much canon to live up to, either. Sadly, we make nothing on this endeavor, but we approve of the process nonetheless.

Warning: Instant Asshole, just add water. Moody, cranky, poorly behaved and incapable of allowing emotions ... yep, that's our boy.

**Expect the Unexpected 23  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

When we took our freedom at the end of the second full week, all four of the yachts were in good shape, and extensive pictures had been taken of all of the interiors. We wanted Aunt Susan to know what the experience was like since she claimed to have never been on so much as a pontoon boat. The pictures indicated the somewhat hidden storage compartments I'd located in addition to the floor plans and the engines; the more information that was available to Aunt Susan, the better for us all.

There was a bittersweet parting between Stephanie and John. He was acting like I had just married his youngest daughter and was moving her to a foreign country. His wife had to pry him off of Stephanie. He asked her repeatedly to e-mail as often as she could and to watch for strangers. He gave her a card with every conceivable way to reach him and the other family members, just in case. Right before we were finally allowed to leave, he pressed an envelope into her hands and one into mine. She reassured him and reminded him that we'd be back in less than three weeks for his big party. It took three hours to leave.

Jorge loaned us his car, our car as he called it, for the duration. It allowed us freedom to roam the country. All we took was just a few maps, a couple of flats of purified water, some food, and about half of our luggage. I had no idea where Stephanie was going to store everything when she got home. Her luggage was like a yeast bread, it just kept expanding.

The first night we were truly alone, we made our meandering plans while sitting in a little taco shop. We decided to head north and aim for Monterrey and then head further west. We'd come down the west side and then cross back over to the Cancun area. The goal was to make a big circle, whether or not we achieved it was a different story.

We wandered through the country at a leisurely pace. We stopped to eat, shop, and sight see at will. We stayed off the beaten path and slept in tiny hotels. It was a freedom I haven't felt since I was a kid. The only constraint was dropping e-mails on a semi-regular basis.

We had been on the road less than a week when she started quoting the guidebook to me. The guidebook recommended the Copper Canyon train ride/excursion and by her estimation we were less than a day away. She wanted to go and I didn't. I had no intention of getting that close to the border unless it was to go home.

"No."

"Why not? It's supposed to be the trip of a lifetime."

"No. Nieves, I saw it a long time ago. It's a big hole in the ground. I don't think it's changed much in twenty years."

"Aren't you the romantic?"

"Call it what you will, but we aren't spending any extra time in Chihuahua to sight see. Most of that state is out of bounds. Drop it."

"If you tell me why you have a stick up your ass about it, I'll let it go."

"No."

"Then I want to go."

"I don't want to leave the car alone for several days."

"From the outside, it's just an old beater. No one would want to steal it."

"Don't bet on it. It would probably be chopped into parts in less than three hours."

"You need a better reason than the car, you're grasping at straws," she said. "We could put it into a garage that had a guard and it would be safer that way." She was right, we probably could.

We drove for another three hours before I pulled into a small motel. After we checked in and found some place to eat, I said, "Fine. You want to know, I'll tell you."

"Good."

"That's an eight day trip, it will take us over our deadline." That much was both true and plausible.

"What about the Tequila Train, provided we make it that far west?"

"No. No trains and no buses. We need control of our own transportation." Sounded good and would maybe stop the whole Copper Canyon question.

"If we ever come back, can we do the canyon when we aren't watching our backs all of the time?"

"No. I don't enjoy vacations. I haven't taken one in ten years. It isn't a habit I'm planning on getting into at this point in my life."

"Party pooper. It's weird because you seem to be having a good time now."

"You seem to forget that this is a job, Stephanie. All I want to do when it's over is go back to work."

She continued to poke at me for shorter trips through the canyon and other tourist destinations until we went to bed.

"The real reason, Manuel."

If I hadn't been so tired, I would've kept my mouth shut. "I've got relatives who work on that railroad line and no one knows about you."

"So you would be ashamed to be with me in front of your family?" Now she was sounding like a wife, great.

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath, "Not exactly. If they meet you, they are going to assume we're married and we aren't. I don't want to explain you to several dozen relatives."

"Fine."

"Stephanie – "

"No, it's fine. I wouldn't want to ruin your sterling reputation."

"Put the shoe on the other foot. How do you think your family would react to all of this?" I picked up her hand and played with the wedding rings on it for emphasis.

"Point made. Turn off the lights so we can get some sleep."

I cut the lights and reached for her. I wasn't that tired and knew she wasn't either.

"Not tonight," she said as she inched her way toward the end of the bed; if there'd been a chair in the room she might have tried to sleep on it.

"Fine."

"Fine."

I got up and took a long shower, used all the hot water and stayed until it was this side of freezing. Warm might have gotten me to sleep, maybe. Cold did nothing for my mood. Stephanie was pretending to be asleep when I got back into bed. I stayed on the far edge of the bed until she spooned into me. I rolled onto my back and she climbed onto me to sleep; just because she initiated something a couple of hours later wasn't my fault.

God, it's going to be hard to go back to sleeping alone when this is over.

As a general rule, I don't sleep on my stomach. When I woke up, I was pretty much sleeping on hers. Her upper body was trapped by part of my chest and arm, her hips were trapped by my leg.

"Off," she said.

I was comfortable and didn't want to move. I grunted. She shoved my shoulder with her hand and said it again, "Off."

The caveman answer had worked before, I was still comfortable so I mostly ignored her.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said. "Now."

I groaned as I released her. She didn't come back, she ran the shower instead. I think she used all the hot water in the tiny town; she was in there for over an hour. I repacked the bags, straightened the sheets and turned on the television. There was nothing on, so I picked up the guidebook and the map. I found where we were and what might be nearby and made a decision.

I knocked on the door, "You alright?"

"Fine."

"You need to get out of the water. We need to get back on the road. I found something on the map you might like to see today, but we need to get going now, it's a four hour drive."

She didn't answer. She was pouting or sulking and I was tired of the moody crap. I responded to the best of my ability; I opened the door and flushed the toilet.

"What the hell?" she asked in a screech.

The water was immediately shut off in the shower. Good.

"Stephanie, you've had more than enough time and water to bathe a family of six. We need to go and I need to hit the head."

"Fine."

There we go with 'fine' again. Fine had been the word of the evening and no way was it going to be the word of the day today, too. The more she used 'fine' the less fine things were between us.

"When you get out, you need to change your attitude when you change your clothes. This job doesn't only affect you," I said.

She turned on the water again as though I hadn't said a word.

"Stephanie, get out now or I flush again."

"Bastard."

"Yep, that would be me. I've pulled clean clothes for you; they're on top of the bed."

"Fine. Feed me and I'll change my attitude."

"You have to get out of the bathroom first."

She opened the door and shoved past me. Whatever. I finally had use of the facilities. I did my business, brushed my teeth, and skipped the shower and shave.

"You picked out my clothes?" she asked staring at the tiny pile on the bed.

"Remember me? I picked out most of the clothes you took on this trip. Can we quit bickering this morning?" I asked. I really wasn't up for the silent treatment today, or any other day for that matter.

She continued to look at me and said nothing.

"I want to hit the road. You look good in Kelly green, I thought you'd like it. Come on Stephanie, please get dressed."

I purchased a bra and panty set for her before we left and had them hidden in a pocket in my bag; it was for emergency use only. She'd gone above and beyond on this job and it had extended long past the anticipated closure date. Plus I know her well enough to know that sometimes something new and unexpected can change her mood and her attitude. The shirt is one she found a shirt in the bottom of my drawer one day and declared it to be her own. It says, "I'm out of bed and dressed. What more do you want?" The shirt fit her attitude for the day in more than one way.

"Thank you. You do know that the bra and panties don't have to match the shirt," she said sounding just a bit contrite.

I shrugged and said, "The shirt was clean and as I remember it, you used to like that shirt. As to the rest matching, it's just a lucky coincidence."

"A nice touch, thank you."

"You're welcome," I said as I finished tucking my shirt into my pants and tying my shoes.

It's interesting to see how much a pair of panties and a bra can impact Stephanie's mood. Maybe I need to order more for her the next time we're at an internet café and have them sent home as a thank you for being a good sport.

We ate breakfast in the car and drove on a tiny, pothole riddled road that was barely two lanes. We weren't on the beaten path, and I didn't want to be. We'd both grown tired being observed and the less traveled and improved roads gave us a feeling of being anonymous.

It was a little after noon when we got near our destination. I stopped at a tiny mercado to get sandwiches, cold sodas, and churros for lunch. While we were there, I pulled a small bag out of the computer case for her. I'd brought a long several things she wasn't aware of, I'm not known for my largesse but sometimes I can be thoughtful.

"Use the bathroom and put this on under your clothes," I said into her ear.

"What is it?"

"You'll see."

She came out with an impressive smile. "You got me a bikini that ties on the sides? We're nowhere near an ocean or a lake."

"Ah, but we are near a stream."

"How long have you been hiding this?" she asked.

"Since you started to commandeering my shirts, acting like they're all community property," I said. She'd been wearing my favorite shirts on a semi-regular basis. I'd given up fighting for the sanctity of my side of the closet, drawer space, or the luggage. As long as I had enough clean clothes to wear it really didn't matter. Fashion and style are far more important to her than they are to me, so why she insists on wearing some of my old t-shirts is beyond me.

"That long? Wow. Just so you know, I love your old cotton shirts, they feel good against my skin."

"Come on, no dawdling. Let's get back in the truck and go. This'll be fun."

We pulled off at the designated spot, carried the food, and climbed down a small embankment. I stripped off my shirt and encouraged her to get down to her bathing suit. I knew we were going to get wet and I didn't want to create more of a laundry problem than necessary.

I wanted to hike and walk through the stream. The hikes I'd taken her on in Jersey just weren't the same. They were about elevation and footing. The point of those hikes was to build her endurance not to have fun. Today was about climbing on rocks and letting our hair down for a while. I haven't done anything for the sake of fun in years; I've missed it.

Stephanie has no career as a mountain goat. Because she was gripping my hand at the time of her slip, neither do I. At least we fell into a section of the stream that had relatively deep water.

We felt the freedom to laugh and splash and play without being observed. It felt like the 4th of July, the only thing missing were the fireworks and watermelon. After she got us well dunked, she hooked her legs around my waist and I retaliated by unlacing her bathing suit bottoms.

"You're sneaky," she said.

"Nope. Not sneaky, think boy scout. You know I like to be prepared. You do have to admit this has better access than some of the other bikinis you own."

"I still think you're sneaky, but when you're right, you're right."

We had sex in the water, on a series of flat rocks, and in the water again.

"We should do this more often," I said as I toweled off and got a couple of sandwiches out of the cooler.

"Have sex?" she asked holding her hand out for her own sandwich. "We actually do that all of the time."

"No, I'm talking about playing. We don't play enough."

"You're right. It's a lot more fun than exercise."

"Only when done properly."

~x~x~

We stumbled into an open air market late one afternoon; we would have to be back on the coast in five days. There was nothing I needed or wanted, but Stephanie seemed to stop whenever the colors displayed by the merchant were vibrant. She stopped a lot, practically every stall. She looked at and evaluated everything, passed on most of it, and moved like molasses in January.

I sat next to a vendor that sold sodas. I bided my time. I've spent years watching people, what was one more afternoon? We were on the downhill slide and I was getting itchy to get home and actually do something; this wasn't doing, it was existing.

She came back, offered me her hand, and said, "You've got to see these. They're perfect."

She dragged me past several stalls down to one that displayed earthenware. Some of it was really very pretty, a bit loud even by my standards, but nice.

"Don't you love these?" she asked indicating a series of serving platters that nested together. "They would be fabulous for the house."

"The house doesn't need anything like this," I said. I barely live there myself, only in recent weeks had I spent more than the occasional night there. "Not at all."

"But Hector told me you'd need something like this for our next party," she said. "He even gave me color swatches." She rifled through her bag and produced a key ring with paint samples attached. "He and Estaban are planning a theme party for when we get home."

"Stephanie, the answer is no."

"Why not? They're perfect. I love them."

"No."

"We can ship them home; we don't need to check them on the plane." She was beginning to whine. "They aren't that expensive. I'll pay for them; you won't be out a dime."

"It's not about the money. _I'm_ _not_ buying them. _You aren't_ buying them. _We_ _aren't_ buying them. _We_ aren't having any more parties or get togethers for anyone._ We_ don't live together. It's _my_ house and _my_ choice. No." I wasn't screaming, yelling or making a scene, but the harsh whisper was impacted her like an open palm to her cheek.

The vendor tried to talk me into them using almost her exact arguments. He tried everything he could to get me to buy her something, anything; I wouldn't budge. I hadn't bought anything beyond a couple of magazines and candy bars the entire trip and hadn't intended to start buying real mementoes now.

Finally she shook her head at the merchant, picked up her purse and went to the next stall and feigned interest in some sterling silver earrings. "You're right. It is _your_ house. I just thought they would be a nice souvenir for you of a good memory. Guess I was wrong. Looks like I'm wrong about a lot of things." She put the earrings down and wandered toward another stall.

I'm pretty sure I heard her mutter, "Jackass," under her breath before she moved out of my hearing.

That night she picked at her food and wouldn't talk about much of anything. We were in a larger town and the motel had two beds in it, doubles.

She showered before I did. I pulled the blankets and pillows off of the spare bed and put them on the one that had the better mattress. When I got out of the shower, she'd put the blankets and pillows back on the poorer of the two beds and was lying on top of it.

Her eyes dared me to challenge her, I didn't. When the lights went out, I didn't sleep; I waited to hear her breathing even out. When I was sure she wouldn't wake up, I moved her to my bed. Things were going to be ending soon and I was going to be sleeping alone for a long time in the future. It didn't matter if we did or didn't have sex, I wanted to feel her in my arms; they felt empty without her.

"Cariño, if you wanted me to sleep next to you, you should have asked," she mumbled. "I don't say no to you that often, not even when you're being a jerk." She stretched her limbs, placed her hand over my heart, and her head on my shoulder. "Don't assume you know all the answers, because you don't. You don't even know all of the questions."

I let go of a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I put my hand under her nightshirt and rubbed her back whispering my apologies about distancing her. Just because I make my apologies in Spanish means nothing, she understood me more each day. I'll probably have to learn French if we get extended again on this job so I can maintain some private thoughts. My moods and comments had hurtful to her and she didn't deserve it, but it hadn't stopped me. I could have been gracious, I could have been kind, I could have been a lot of things and I wasn't any of them. It was late in the game and I thought needed to distance myself now to prepare for the end of the job. For her sake, I realized I was wrong.

Before dawn, I woke up to her removing her nightshirt and settling back on top of my chest. "Much better," she said with a sigh. She was right, it was.

A couple of hours later she was leaving a trail of kisses across my shoulders and chest, a very nice wake up call.

I was about to roll her under me so I could return the favor when she whispered, "No."

"Okay." I tried to get out from under her so I could take care of the morning wood.

"That's not what I mean," she said. "Do you remember the night I asked you to breathe with me?"

Most definitely. "Yes."

"I want that again. I need that connection back. I want to get it back now."

"Okay. I'll do whatever you want, just tell me," I said as I tried to kiss her but she moved her face away before I could.

She said, "All I want you to do is breathe with me. I need the control and the power right now."

"It's yours. Are you alright this morning, Stephanie?" I brushed the hair away from her face so I could get a better look at her eyes; they were closed.

"I'll be fine, Manny. Lie back."

Far be it from me to prevent her from using my body for her own pleasure.

It wasn't the same this time, the connection was failing and I was at a loss how to restore it. The last time she had her eyes open and she'd insisted we look at each other, this time here eyes were mostly closed and when they were open, her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Nieves, look at me. Please?"

She finally did and all of the emotion leaked down the front of her face. "I can't do this," she said.

I bracketed her face with my hands and brushed her tears away with my thumbs. "You can. We can. We will. Promise."

She moved her head slowly from side to side and said, "We shouldn't." She buried her face in my shoulder.

"We both need the connection. We both want it," I said. "Please?" To hell with distance right now. Distance is overrated.

She didn't say anything. She remained collapsed on my chest, barely moving and scarcely breathing.

"Let me do this for you," I said. "But you have to watch me."

After she nodded her agreement, I rolled her under me and pulled out of her warmth. I kissed my apologies across her body hoping she'd understand. I took as much time as I could to properly cherish all of her, put her first. She tried to reciprocate, but I couldn't let her, not this time. When her eyes again brimmed with tears, I'd crawl back up her body and kiss her until they were gone. Then I'd whisper my request for forgiveness all over again with each touch, each caress hoping she could translate the meaning for herself.

She accepted my body back into hers and we rocked slowly together for what felt like eternity. It made me glad that I spend so much time doing upper body work.

"Is the connection back?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Hold on."

When she made noises like she was close, and she'd already had three orgasms, I knew I could finally let go of the control I still had. I wasn't even trying to time hers with mine, I really needed mine and soon.

"Manny, I … I … I… lo-"

I couldn't stand to hear what she might have to say, because there would be no way to call the words back. There would be no way to unring the bell. I covered her mouth with mine and swallowed her remaining words, then I moved my hand to ensure she wouldn't remember what she was trying to say and pushed her over the edge one more time. I fell right after her.

I rolled to my side and snuggled into her softness.

"Manny, I wanted to say-" she began.

"Shh. Don't say anything right now, Nieves. Just breathe with me."

* * *

A/N: Thanks for stopping by to read on Manny Monday ... yes, he's a pain and he's moody - but he's being confronted with the future, his life, emotions (horror of horrors), and making honest to Pete decisions.

thanks as always for reading/reviewing! Alf.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: JE owns the good toys and we just play with them.

**Expect the Unexpected 24  
Manny's Story  
Alfonsina**

We pushed to Mexico City later that day. It was the touristy thing to do. It was like Mt. Everest; we were going to do it because it was there and it felt obligatory. We felt united again like we hadn't since my birthday and it made me want to think things and plan things that were normally not on my radar. I put my dreams away years ago, it felt odd to want to dust them off and try them out again. Unfortunately, there was really no point in doing that now; the world would be a different place for me when the job was over.

We spent two days in the city at a very nice hotel; it had everything including an English speaking staff, something Stephanie had missed recently. For all the museums and touristy spots that were available, you'd think she'd want to experience more of the culture. She didn't. She wanted a taste of home in the form of KFC and McDonalds. She had absorbed about as much of the culture as she was going to and she'd been a good sport. I found a mall where she get back in touch with her inner Jersey girl. I followed along, as was my duty, and helped her pick out a few things for herself she wouldn't be able to get at home. She also chose an outfit for the party that we were now both obligated to attend when we returned to the compound in just a couple of days. She decided to pick out an acceptable outfit for me, too. Somehow she just didn't think I'd be able to look respectable on my own; then again, she's only seen me in combinations of holey jeans, ancient t-shirts, and ratty shorts in the last several weeks. She's probably right about both my taste and style levels.

~x~x~

When we returned to the compound, we were assigned to our original casita. I don't know if it was so that we would be easier to monitor or so that we would be more part of the festivities. It didn't matter either way, we already knew where the bugs were going to be and how lumpy the bed was.

There was a note from Matt Sanders to check in with him first thing in the morning. I know everything had been done to bring the boats back to factor spec, if not better. It was probably time to go over the final bits of what needed to be done before the party. I hoped that Joe was up to his end of this job or I'd be in for more than I'd bargained for months ago.

~x~x~

Matt put me through the wringer during the first full day back. He had me re-calibrate everything, document it in more than one log, and do it in front of him and the guys who had been my crew. I thought I'd worked hard before Stephanie and I hit the road, now I was re-doing almost everything in a quarter of the time. I know it has to be done, but it annoyed me all the same.

Stephanie and I were both on the countdown to the party, to going home, and to getting the job over. I kept a lid on my bursts of temper, impatience, and intolerance. She didn't deserve to be subjected to them and it wouldn't make sense to anyone observing us. Her temperament was more even keeled than I expected, at least in public, and we seemed to always be in public.

The pillow talk had increased and so did time talking after morning mass. We talked about Aunt Susan and how things were with 'her', what to expect when we got home, and what would happen at the party. We agreed to be friends when it was over, and more importantly, agreed to have no weirdness. The same staged breakup was discussed and planned to cover both our asses when we got home. We figured it would take about six to seven weeks to execute effectively and realistically. We agreed we'd talk things through all the way, making sure that the 'miscommunications' were contrived and planned; scripted so to speak.

As to the rest of the time, things were almost calm when the rest of the family invaded the compound. We knew almost everyone at this point. Stephanie hadn't expected to see Joe Lipari show up, sans wife. He and I met a few times separately. He gave me hints on how to adjust her back when she got tense and upset; all of the hints had to do with power tools. He told me that his brand of healing was irreplaceable, but I could do her body some good with the proper use of power tools, heat, and patience.

~x~x~

Matt took me aside and said, "We're cleared for tomorrow. The drop was made earlier today. Make sure you are visible when it happens and that you are with Stephanie. Tonight we need to work on the Esparanza: drain the fuel tank, manipulate the gauges, slip some switches, and pray like hell."

"How's it going to go down? What time?"

"Doesn't concern you. But because you aren't really _family_ you need to be visible with your wife when it happens. Your alibi needs to be air tight."

"What time tonight?"

"Around midnight. It shouldn't take more than two or three hours at the outside."

He indicated a path I was to walk and told me the necessary tools would be on board. That all would have been just fine except that afternoon, John took me aside with a proposition.

"Manny, you've been a good fit," he said. Oh shit. "And I'd like to see you replace Matt as my mechanic. He and I have talked about it and he thinks you'd be perfect."

"No thank you," I said. "I already have a business of my own."

"You don't seem to understand. You can keep your own business. You'd just be on call to help me out a couple of months a year." He'd always looked pleasant, indulgent, not today. Today, he was the man who got what he wanted, when he wanted it. He was living up to his reputation and I wasn't going to have any way out.

I shook my head.

"I've already talked to Stephanie about coming down a couple of times a year, she's agreed. You seem to be the only hold out. Is it a matter of money? I'll triple what I'm paying you now for less work."

Fuck. When had he had time to talk to Stephanie? Had she really agreed? Didn't she realize this was just a job that needed to end immediately?

"It isn't that," I said back peddling as fast as I could. "It's that I do things for the long haul. Stephanie and I are planning to start our family in the next year or so, and you get the idea."

"No problem. I love families and Matt won't need his casita, it has three bedrooms and you'll have use of a nanny while you are both here. I know small children can be a bit overwhelming and taxing on the mothers."

It had sounded like a great lie at the time. No way to effectively reverse course. God fucking damn it.

"I'd like to continue this conversation on board the Esparanza later tonight. We can firm things up over drinks," he said.

The Esparanza was the boat that I was going to tinker with later that night. Now what?

"No John. That won't be necessary. If it means that much to you, I can hardly refuse you now, can I? Besides, it's an offer that I'd be a fool to refuse," I said attempting a sincere smile, praying it didn't look like a grimace.

"In that case, I'll have my attorney draw up the formal contract when we get back to Jersey. Welcome to the family, Manny. Oh, and the name John would be perfect for your first born son."

I groaned inwardly before I answered, "No guarantee of a boy the first time around. How do you feel about the name Juan instead? I always wanted Spanish names for my children."

"Good enough," he said clasping my shoulder.

"If you'll excuse me," I said. "I want to tell Stephanie about our good fortune. You don't know where she is right now, do you?"

"She's with Maris having a facial. Or is it a massage today? I never can remember. Anyway, it is the third building on the left."

"Thanks."

I hightailed it to our place and grabbed the backpack that held the laptop. I found the casita where the beauty rituals were being performed, knocked once, and stuck my head inside.

"Nieves, honey, can I borrow you? It's important."

Her face was covered with some kind of green goop and cucumber slices covered her eyes. "Sure, we were almost done here."

The attendant immediately began to clean off her face, spritzed something on it and sent Stephanie on her way. I took her by the arm and began the walk into town at a fast clip.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Church. We need to talk and we need to talk now."

"We could do it in the pool," she said. "No one pays attention to us in the pool."

"Trust me, we need to go to church," I said. And in the pool I'd be distracted by her and I needed to be as clear as I could.

She knew better than to talk to me during the walk. I pushed open the doors to the church, verified no one was there, and even checked the confessionals to be certain they were empty, too. We genuflected, crossed ourselves, made our way to the regular pew, and pulled down the kneeling bench. I pulled the onyx rosary from my pocket and looked like I was going to start praying in earnest.

"I have been asked to join the family," I said as I moved a bead between my fingers. I continued to move my lips while I waited for her response.

"That's great. Right?"

"No." It would extend our cover forever and I'd never get my life back. "You don't want to be saddled with me indefinitely. Trust me." I forwarded one more bead between my fingers indicating I'd completed another prayer.

She didn't say anything and didn't look at me.

"Things are coming to a head very, very soon. Depending on how things go, I might not be able to go home when it's over." I shouldn't have said anything, but felt compelled to let her know the grave part of the job was upon us, no pun intended.

"You're going to stay behind?" she asked quietly. "I'll stay with you. I want to."

"No. It wouldn't be that kind of staying behind. It would be permanent. I can't say any more," I said as I advanced the beads again.

Again she said nothing. She bobbed her head to acknowledge that she heard me. "What do we need to do?" she asked quietly.

"We need to send an e-mail to Aunt Susan, letting her know about my good fortune and ask for direction."

I finished saying the rosary before we left, I wanted extra re-enforcements and some peace of mind. We went to _our_ bakery and prepared to send the e-mail. There was one waiting for us when we got there about pest control, specifically about snakes. The crux of it was that the head of the snake needed to come off to ensure the death of the animal. But if the snake is venomous, the fangs are still dangerous long after the body is dead. The head had to be crushed thoroughly to ensure that no harm can come to innocent bystanders.

Stephanie composed an e-mail about hating snakes herself. She then went on about our good fortune and how it would take the stress off of getting my business off the ground. She then indirectly asked for approval.

The response was immediate, "Congratulations. I knew good things were coming to the two of you."

That was about as clear as mud.

~x~x~

Stephanie insisted on helping me at least get down to the boat to make it ready for the next day. One of the biggest challenges I knew we'd have was getting me off of the compound without raising too much suspicion. She and I had never gotten around to having sex on the beach, this was the opportune time to give the guards a show without necessarily having a complete show. She took several towels and a blanket in her beach bag and I carried a backpack full of picnic things. We had a picnic on the beach with Perrier, cheese and crackers. It looked like we were getting down to _business_ and my body was replaced by a blanket that was strategically folded.

She pretended to sleep on the beach next to a small fire. She curled her body around the pile and covered in an overly large blanket. She borrowed my rosary before we left, probably to give her something to do, or at least hang onto, while she waited.

I jogged down to the pier and climbed onto the boat as quietly as I could. Matt was already there. Joe had left behind a timed device that needed to be attached to the bottom of the boat near the propellers. It wasn't a state of the art device, but it is one he'd developed as a SEAL. Lipari had been an underwater demolition specialist and could create a bomb out of nothing but air, paperclips, and his imagination. I knew better than to ask questions as I saw Matt put on his scuba gear.

I went about my business emptying the tank, manipulating gauges, and making sure that Matt came up while he still had oxygen in his tank.

We were done in under an hour.

"How are you going to get John onto the boat without anyone else to keep him company?"

"He may not be alone, bodyguards are collateral damage. If they die, they die. No more questions. Just remember not to come to the pier tomorrow I'm going to blow the boat one way or another." Lately John Russo went nowhere without at least two bodyguards.

Before we'd left on this leg of the job, I'd asked the agencies who the target was. It was John Russo and no one else. Evidently, none of his kids wanted to follow in his footsteps and he didn't trust anyone to do the job as well as he could. He had announced that he would hand pick his predecessor when he went back to Jersey, but no one knew who that might be or what skills he or she had. Additionally, he gloated over the fact that the organization would never survive without him, it explained why the cut his family got was lower than expected; he didn't trust them enough to follow his footsteps and he paid through the nose for constant guards no matter where in the world he was.

Due to the intelligence gathered on him, the agencies decided that he was the head of the snake and while it wasn't said in so many words, they wanted the head crushed, not brought in to become a captive. On his own he was dangerous and no one wanted to take the risk. Marshalls were already in place to take Joe Lipari and Matt into the witness protection program once the deed was done.

Stephanie was dozing when I found returned to our spot. She was more than a little relieved to see me and we wound up doing what we'd only said we'd do at the beach. It took me an hour to get all of the sand out of places it didn't belong. It was worth it.

~x~x~

The family had a picnic scheduled for midday. Everyone was slated to be in attendance. There was no way out, not that I was looking for one. It was going to be best to be with others when things went down.

At about two o'clock, Matt took John aside to talk about the boat. The next day, it was scheduled to head down to Columbia and then Venezuela to deliver the goods onboard. Matt told John that he wanted to do a brief cruise, just the two of them to go over the details. It wasn't unusual, in the past they did it on a semi-regular basis since John was so hands on.

John's security team went over the boat with a fine tooth comb before John was even allowed on. It is a good thing that we'd taken precautions and built a couple of false compartments that blended with the existing cabinetry.

John tried to get me to go with them, so I'd know the rhythm for the next time. Stephanie saved my bacon, for which I was grateful. She took him aside and whispered something in his ear. He smiled and dismissed the two of us. He said he'd understand if we didn't rejoin them until the next day or even the day after that. He had us formally excused from the rest of the day's activities and made arrangements to have dinner sent to our room that night.

After John shared Stephanie's _news_ with Maris, he invited Joe to go on the mini cruise in my place. Telling Maris solidified our alibi and she spread the word that we were to have _privacy, _ a word she emphasized with a knowing wink, to anyone within earshot. Welcome to performance anxiety.

"Nieves, what did you say to him?" I asked as we headed back to the casita.

"You know how he's been going on about us and a baby?"

I nodded. Why couldn't the man let the baby situation just die? It wasn't like he didn't have grandchildren of his own and he really didn't know us all that well.

"I told him that I wanted to get started on our family immediately and today according to the fertility test was a great day for us to try. He said something about making sure to keep you hydrated and your energy up."

I smiled. "Nice save, thanks."

"I don't know what's supposed to happen, but I didn't want you in the middle of it if at all possible," she said taking my face into her hands and looking deeply into my eyes. "It was the least I could do."

"Well, we should go back to the casita and let them think that we're trying to make a baby today."

"I don't have a fertility test to back it up."

"I can't get you pregnant anyway."

"Good point. Shall we blow this popsicle stand?" she asked with a wink.

"Wish you hadn't said it quite that way. But yes, I think now is a good time to exit stage left."'

~x~x~

Stephanie and I stayed in bed reading magazines until we heard frantic pounding on the door. I answered the door in a towel, proving what we'd been up to. She was in the bed, sheet up to her chin. There was a bottle of flavored massage oil on the bedside table, a feather and a blindfold didn't hurt appearances any either. We were asked to join the family in the main salon. The police had arrived to start an official investigation.

Stephanie was beyond shocked when she realized it was Caesar who'd been pounding on the door and who'd let himself into our space. Somehow he'd been provided by Rangeman in the event we needed to get out and we were being blocked. A cavalry of one, better than nothing. I wanted to acknowledge him in some way, but couldn't. He did make a comment in English about disturbing my _piece_. I can handle Caesar being an ass, he does it well in Spanish as well as in English. I was relieved that Zero didn't come, not that he would have been convincing, Stephanie's Spanish is better than his _and_ he'd ask if I'd put a camera in the room this time and told Stephanie about it.

From what we were told, the Esparanza had been at sea for about thirty minutes when there was a horrible explosion on the water. I didn't know if either Matt or Joe had survived it; I'd miss both men and Stephanie I knew would miss Joe incredibly.

Dinner was a somber affair. Three men were gone, presumed to be dead at sea. No one could verify what had happened to the boat and my logs checked out to show that nothing had been tampered with. It made me glad that Matt had made me keep two sets of books, one at the compound and one aboard ship.

Everyone walked to the compound chapel after dinner, lit candles, sat, talked quietly, and a few even prayed. Even though Stephanie knew to some degree that Russo was going to die, it didn't stem the flow of her tears for him. She cried longer and harder than his own children. After she was past the worst of it, Stephanie shot me a look that said, "When are we getting out of here?"

Until I heard from Caesar or one of the actual investigators, there was no way anyone was leaving the compound for any reason, not family and not us.

Two nights later, we got the all clear. We could go to town that evening, but we couldn't leave for home until at least the next day in the afternoon.

* * *

A/N: We're almost done with Mexico ... and we're on the downhill slide.

thanks as always for reading, reviewing and enjoying Manny Monday!


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I own nothing, darn it ... hope you enjoy anyway

Warning: the penny drops. Enough said.

**Expect the Unexpected 25  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

She wanted to see an American movie, some chick flick that she'd already seen was playing at the local theatre. She said she'd always wanted to see a dubbed movie. I got a pass because I'd already watched it with her; it was painful once in English. To see it again was going beyond the call of duty; she let me off the hook. We agreed that I'd meet her when it was over and we'd get a drink or maybe go dancing. The situation left me with an evening alone, I decided to spend it at the bar and watch a soccer match.

"Tonica sin hielo," (Tonic water, no ice) I said to the bartender holding up my finger. I still prefer tonic water to beer, probably always will. I'd been thinking about things for several days and knew tonight something was going to change; there was no reason to numb my senses or impair my faculties. I found a small table in the corner and watched the other patrons and the screens when a leggy blonde came in.

She was exactly who I'd been putting in my black book for years. She was the right vintage somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five, straight long hair, aquiline nose, very WASPY looking. She was wearing a very revealing blouse and the skirt's slit on the left side went almost to her hip. Out of habit I checked the left hand for a ring, it was vacant, not even a telltale tan line.

She took a drink from the bartender and looked around for an empty table. Seeing none, walked over to mine and asked to join me. Her name was Lucy.

Lucy and I watched the game and talked until after nine. It wasn't so much talking as it was flirting. It was a conversation I've had thousands of times before, all promise no substance. If I'd been home and under other circumstances, I would easily have done her and sent her on her way. I can't say I wasn't tempted even now.

One of the pool tables freed up, she wanted a challenge, so we shot a couple of games. I was helping her to line up what could have been a tricky shot when I felt someone looking at me from the other side of the bar. At that moment, Lucy turned under my arms and kissed me deeply. The person on the other side of the bar was Stephanie. She looked devastated.

As soon as our eyes locked, she turned and literally ran out.

"Wife?" Lucy asked.

"Something like that." I still don't use the 'w' word unless absolutely necessary.

"I was hoping that ring was just for show."

"Sorry. I've got to go."

I threw some bills at the bartender to settle the remaining tab and took off after Stephanie. When I caught up with her, I grabbed her by the elbow and stopped her.

"It isn't what it looked like."

"Manny, I'm not doing this out here," she said, walking again.

"Fine. It can wait until we're alone." Good, no public scene to deal with and no neighbors to disturb.

I opened the door to the room, we both entered and she made a beeline for the bathroom. I waited for a tirade of some kind, or a rant. None came.

"Are you going to come out sometime this year so we can talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Manuel."

"Please?"

I was greeted by the sound of water running in the bathtub, her favorite form of avoidance.

"Can you hear me?"

The water continued to run.

After half an hour she finally spoke through the door. "I was going to tell you that I got bored in the movie so I went to the coffee shop and borrowed a computer. I booked our flights for the day after tomorrow. If you have a better offer, make your own way home."

Home, that sounds promising and it's about time.

She went on, "I'm a big girl and I knew this was an acting job. But I liked the illusion of being with a man who was honest with me, who acted as though I was enough. I know you don't see me that way and I know you resented me initially being part of this job, but we'd gotten along so well."

I had nothing to say to that, not a word.

"Do you know that Lester actually took me aside and warned me before I moved into your place?" she asked.

_Fuck, not Lester_.

"He said that you were the one who taught him how to play the game, that you were the game master. He told me that you were compulsive. He said you couldn't not play the game. He even said you'd be on the first available blonde. I thought he was lying, at the very least exaggerating."

"But I didn't…"

"I don't really care what you did or didn't do. I'm sure there'll be things on the monitored conversations and on the surveillance photos I'm not supposed to know about when you were cozying up to one of the wives or whatever. Don't worry, I have no interest in reviewing any of the recordings. If at all possible, I'll do my debriefing with Ranger and the other agents alone. I'm officially done."

There was nothing recorded she couldn't see, I'd been above board the entire time. I hadn't crossed the line in the sand once, until tonight. All I did was put my big toe over the line. I hadn't crossed it completely. It hadn't occurred to me to cross it, or even look at it until tonight and I wasn't that impressed with the experience.

"Manny, I'm taking the high road. I'm not going to create a scene. I have no right to be ugly. I just thought it would have been nice if you could have been the first man in my life, other than my father, to ever keep his word. It was almost five months, did you know that's a record for me? If you'd met me later like we planned, you had less than forty-eight hours to go and I couldn't have said anything. Remember the expiration date you gave me? Silly me, I thought you were man enough to honor it."

"Nieves…"

"Don't call me that anymore, you've lost the right to use a nickname for me. Friends use nicknames and we aren't friends, we never have been. We aren't work associates. We're strangers who've been sharing a bed for months. Oh and I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you ever again. I was on the sofa for almost a month at the beginning, you can damned well sleep on the floor or on the sofa until we leave."

"Stephanie, please?"

"No. You never wanted me, you tolerated me and put up with me. All I was to you was a fuck buddy, and a well paid one at that. I can't believe that I did it so willingly. I was basically a whore for you. God, I'm stupid because I'd not only believed you, but I trusted you. I knew up front from you and all of the guys that you didn't do relationships. Shame on me, this felt like one at least on my side, even though it had an expiration date. I thought you were man enough to honor your own expiration date."

Christ. "Your movie got out early. I was getting ready to meet you. I wanted you to …"

"To what, run late so I wouldn't catch you with someone? So I wouldn't see what you're really like when you're on your own?"

"That's not what I wanted. This isn't what I wanted," I said more to myself than to the door. I have no idea what I wanted but I knew what I'd wanted to say, before. Too late to say any of it now. It was all irrelevant.

"When I open the door, I won't see you. I won't acknowledge you. I won't talk to you. You won't exist for me anymore."

"God damn it, Stephanie."

"What?"

"I don't want you …"

I hadn't even finished the sentence that she opened the door and said, "That's what I thought."

I went to the bedroom and took the top sheet, one of the blankets and pillows. I placed them on the sofa for later.

"I'm going out. I'll be back late, if at all. Don't wait up," I said as I slammed the door. I hadn't done anything wrong, yet I was being punished. Okay, it was a little wrong, but I wasn't totally at fault. I hadn't started anything and it wasn't like I was fucking Lucy. It was just one kiss, one. The damn kiss wasn't even all that good either.

If I looked at myself, I probably did want to build a wedge between us before we got home. I didn't really want a clean break, it would be too easy to get back with her later and she deserved better. If it was messy, she wouldn't want me and I could resume my old life and habits.

I returned to the bar. Lucy had gone; I was glad about that. I didn't have to avoid temptation. Temptation went home with someone else.

I nursed my solitary beer for three hours. I stayed until the bartender was off shift. I talked to no one and saw nothing. Then I went for a long walk to nowhere. I have no idea how far I walked or how long. I walked until the sun came up then I headed back to the hotel to shower, change and go to morning mass and confession.

She wasn't in the room when I got back, must have been having breakfast. I found a slip of paper, wrote on it, and put it in with her underwear. I figured she might see when she changed clothes or when she packed. Worst case scenario, she'd find it when she unpacked from the trip.

_Stephanie,_

_I'm sorry about what you think you saw. Yes, I did flirt with Lucy, but I didn't initiate the flirting or the kiss. I never broke my promise to you, it never even crossed my mind._

_The other men in your life have been fools. I've been a fool, too. But at least I was an honest one. I'm sorry so many have hurt you in the past, and that I hurt you inadvertently._

_I hope that you find everything you want and deserve in a relationship. Don't settle for less than honesty._

_I wish you well._

_Manny._

I left again to get something to eat and read a newspaper. I didn't head back for hours. When I arrived at the room, everything that was hers was gone. What the hell?

I found someone on the housekeeping staff to ask if they knew where Stephanie was; she'd moved herself into the infirmary. I didn't even know the compound had an infirmary.

"She looked terrible when I cleaned your casita," the woman said. "I found Jose and asked him to translate; he told me she was sick."

When had she gotten sick?

"La señora was paler than normal; she kept shaking. It was obvious she wasn't well," she said. "Jose wanted the infirmary to keep her until you two leave tomorrow."

Great, housekeeping knew my itinerary better than I did.

I got directions to the infirmary, expecting to find something like the nurse's office from a high school. This was far from that, beyond the main desk there were several private rooms, an area for exams, and what appeared to be a surgical suite.

"I'm looking for Stephanie Ramos," I said to the young woman who was manning the front desk.

"Yes, la señora is here. She isn't well, poor thing."

"Can I see her?"

"No. The doctor gave her something to stop the constant throwing up and it put her to sleep."

Great, I don't handle hurling well. Never have.

"Where is the doctor now?" I asked. It appeared that there was no one in the building except the desk attendant and me. "Can I talk to him?"

"He's already gone. Do you want his number?"

"No, thanks."

"He wasn't happy. She kept insisting that she wanted to leave and go home, something about not liking hospitals and not wanting to be a bother to you anymore. That's another reason he knocked her out. She needed the rest, poor dear. Hortencia, her nurse, asked housekeeping to pack up la senora's things so she'd be ready for your flight in the morning."

At least now I knew when the flight was.

"Where is her luggage now?"

"In the main building with Fernando. Look, I've got to get the surgical suite ready for later today. If you'll excuse me."

"Sure, no problem. What kind of surgery?"

"Tummy tuck, I think. I'll check on your wife later. If there's a problem, I'll send someone to find you."

Now they could send someone to me, before I wasn't on their radar. She'd probably insisted on not having me notified. Great. At least the job was almost over, maybe we can keep it together just a little longer.

"Enjoy the rest of your stay."

Yeah. And I'll enjoy the rest of my life, too.

~x~x~

My life became excruciatingly quiet.

I thought a Stephanie that talked incessantly was difficult, that was nothing to the silent Stephanie I encountered. She perfected the cold shoulder at some point in her life, I felt a chill when I was near her. It made for a very long trip home; the entire journey had been made virtual silence. There would have been more warmth between two ice cubes. Technically it was mission accomplished, but everything felt unsettled and very incomplete.

I wasn't looking forward to the flight home, but it was the most expeditious of our choices. The i's were dotted and the t's were crossed, now it was just a matter of getting my ass on the plane and white knuckling the trip.

Stephanie made the previous trips bearable. I doubted she'd be gracious this time. I got us to the airport, checked in, and boarded hearing less than five sentences from her; none of them were directed at me. I was more than surprised that she didn't try to change seats this time being we were so _fond_ of each other right now.

She asked the flight attendant for two pillows and a blanket after we lifted off. She raised the bar between our seats, unfolded the blanket, covered both of us with it, and put one pillow on her shoulder the other on the window.

"Come on, you know you want to," she said in a quiet, ragged voice.

She was right, I did. I didn't realize how much. I dipped my head once to acknowledge and accept her offer.

I closed my eyes and heard her whisper, "It'll all be over soon. You're almost home."

I didn't sleep so much as replay the last several months through my mind. I kicked myself in the ass the entire flight for everything I'd done, thought, said, and hadn't done, thought or said. I never thought this job would end with a happily ever after, but I didn't think it was going to be so hard on her when it was over. I plan fairly far ahead, but never all the way to the end; I should have this time, it would have been more fair to her.

I opened my eyes when I heard the captain make the landing announcement. I still had my head on Stephanie's shoulder, hers was on the window. The blanket had slipped down to my waist, I noticed our fingers were laced together. We'd spent so much time holding hands it didn't feel awkward or strange to have her hand in mine now.

We deplaned, passed customs, and headed for the baggage claim. Out of habit, I placed my hand at the small of her back. She acted like I'd singed her somehow. She headed into the first available bathroom and didn't come out for several minutes, I had to ask someone to check on her. She finally emerged with her eyes down cast and water stains on her shirt.

Ranger was waiting for us at baggage claim. He was going to take us to Philly just like the previous debriefing.

"Well done, Manny. Congratulations on a job well done, Babe," he said shaking my hand. "Welcome back."

He looked at Stephanie whose face didn't brighten or change. "Babe, you okay?" He tried to give her a hug, but she wouldn't return his embrace. She was about as animated as a bag of flour.

"Fine. Just fine, Ranger," she said.

He looked at me and shrugged.

I pulled all the luggage from the baggage carousel. We'd started with four bags plus her carryons and the computer, we'd added three more bags for her purchases.

"Babe?"

"It's fine, Ranger. I paid for the extra bags and airline fees from my own money," she said.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask."

Ranger used Spanish to ask me, "How long has she been like this?"

"A couple of days." I shrugged.

"Do you know what's brought it on?"

"Probably." I shrugged again.

"Want to explain?"

"No. Let's just go; she hasn't been sleeping well."

We headed to the SUV, got everything loaded and headed to the hotel.

"Hungry, Stephanie?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

"Manny?"

"She hasn't eaten since this morning and then she didn't eat much."

"Babe?" he asked. He was trying to get a good look at her through the rear view mirror; she was laid out on the bench seat. "Where would you like to go for dinner?"

"I want room service at the hotel."

"If that's what you want, Babe." He continued to drive constantly checking on her in the rearview mirror.

At the hotel after he checked the SUV with the valet and got the bags unloaded he motioned me to talk in the corridor. "Anything you need to explain to me?"

"No."

"Anything she needs to tell me?"

"She knew the rules and the risks going in. She's a big girl," I said. She would tell him or she wouldn't. It was no longer my problem.

The check-in desk only had one reservation for Ramos and none under the name Plum. There were no more rooms to be had. Stephanie had made the reservations before the _incident _and must not have thought to about our no longer sleeping together. It hadn't occurred to me that we'd be together, I assumed Ranger had Tank or someone else make the hotel arrangements.

"I'm not staying alone with him, Ranger. You can't make me," she said.

The little girl behind the desk said, "It's a two bedroom suite."

"No," Stephanie said. She was emphatic about it.

"Tomorrow night there are two standard rooms, you can change tomorrow if that'll work," the clerk said.

Stephanie looked at Ranger like he was her life preserver and she was stuck in the middle of the ocean. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

He smiled like he was being invited to stay with her alone.

"Sure, I can do that."

"Great. You can sleep with Manny."

"Great," he said. His enthusiasm for staying with 'us' had waned substantially.

"Great," I said.

We three checked into the suite, ordered room service and watched something Stephanie had wanted to see on cable – all three of us were on the sofa. It was awkward at best. Stephanie took the master bedroom with the en suite bath. Ranger looked disgruntled that our room only had a queen sized bed and no additional amenities.

"No problem," I said pulling a pillow and blanket from the bed. "I'll take the couch."

I couldn't get comfortable and contemplated sleeping on the floor when Stephanie's door opened. She tiptoed across the suite to the sofa. To me.

I didn't want to startle her or scare her away, so I feigned sleep. She turned the blanket back and crawled on top of me. She mumbled things into my chest I wasn't supposed to hear or even guess: her hopes and fears, her desires and dreams, her foibles, and her mixed emotions. I could never give her what she said she wanted. I could never live up to her expectations. It was better this way, really.

I held her like I had so many nights when things were new. I absently rubbed circles across her back and neck. It was common between us and I'm not sure who derived more comfort from it.

Some time before dawn, Stephanie left for her own room. Ranger was aware of it; he stood in the doorframe of his room until her door closed with a click.

I said softly, "I didn't ask for her to come; she came to me of her own freewill. Nothing happened." Something significant had happened; a dream died completely. Whose dream it was I'm not sure and doubt I ever will know.

The second bedroom door closed quietly. The job was over except for a few small details; my life was my own, officially, when she closed the bedroom door. I thought I was ready for this to come to an end; I've thought a lot of things lately.

* * *

A/N: I know this doesn't feel like a very Happy Manny Monday ... next week will/won't either ... next week we are stripping him bare and you'll see what has caused some of his distrust.

thanks as always for reading and reviewing.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em but I promise to put them all away where I found them when I'm done playing!

a/n: daylight savings doesn't apply to Arizona ... it is almost midnight here - therefore I declare this to be Manny Monday - even if the date says Sunday ... close enough.

we are stripping Manny bare emotionally - welcome to the Man Cave and its contents.

**Expect the Unexpected 26  
Manny's Story  
by Alfonsina**

This debriefing should have gone as smoothly as the first a few weeks ago. It didn't. It wasn't quite a disaster, but there was nothing easy or smooth about it.

The problem started when Stephanie came to the meeting looking like she'd been up all night sick. I know that's not what she looked like before she went back to her own bedroom. In the light of the conference room her skin was pale, her nose was raw, and her allergies must have been acting up because her eyes were red and almost swollen shut. It looked like she had a bad case of pink eye. Maybe she really had picked up a bug in Mexico, I hoped it was just one of those seventy-two hour things.

She didn't pay attention to anything that was going on around her and wasn't adding to the conversation unless she was questioned directly. It appeared that all she was capable of doing was doodling on a notepad or shredding paper napkins. Even when she might have had something to contribute, the question had to be posed at least twice before she would say anything and then her answers were very quiet and short. She was in her own little world.

One of the agents asked, "Why are you so uncooperative, Ms. Plum?"

She shrugged at him and looked down at the conference table. She picked up her coffee cup, put it down again, and began tracing designs on the conference table with her finger.

Before the first afternoon was over, Ranger took her outside to speak privately. She didn't rejoin the rest of the briefing.

"Are we waiting for Ms. Plum?" an agent asked.

"No. Ms. Plum is going to be making her statements separately," Ranger said. "She isn't feeling well right now."

"But this was supposed to be-" the agent began.

Ranger gave him a harsh look and said, "Ms. Plum isn't feeling well right now."

"Should I go look in on her?" I asked.

"Absolutely not," Ranger said. "We need to get this briefing underway. We've wasted enough of one day."

The next morning, Stephanie was again absent from the festivities. It was noted that she was being debriefed in private and would likely return to Trenton alone later that afternoon.

~x~x~

I unlocked my front door for the first time in weeks. It was the first time in months I didn't have to worry about anyone being there trying to improve me.

I wiped my feet before I walked through the foyer and deposited my bags in the living room. It wasn't like company ever came to visit; the bags would be in no one's way. I headed for my bed and wanted to sleep for a week.

Except I couldn't. I needed to check in with my son. Until I did that, I wouldn't sleep well and I knew it.

I pulled the key out of the box in my nightstand and undid the deadbolt to the room I called the man cave. It isn't a typical man cave, not even close. The room was exactly as I'd left it, would probably always leave it. It was the first room in the house I furnished when I bought it. I'd finally won custody of my only child and we were going to have a better life away from his mother. I was scheduled to fly back to Texas to bring my boy home with me; due to the accident, I left his body in Texas.

For years, I'd thought about things with Rita and wondered. Rita had such a hard time getting pregnant that when she finally was, I was beyond ecstatic. I was in love with the baby as soon as the home pregnancy test gave us the good news. Well, the news was good to me; I hadn't known that Rita had done all she could _not_ to get pregnant. She wanted to terminate the pregnancy; I talked her out of it. She hated being pregnant and what it did to her body. She made me get a vasectomy as soon as the fetus was viable. There was no way she was going to go through _this_ ever again.

I would have had a dozen kids with my wife; we wouldn't have been rich, but there would have been enough love to go around. Rita barely had enough love for herself, almost none for our son, and none at all for me. It broke my heart that she couldn't love him, too. I did what I could so he would never know. When he was a baby, I changed him in the middle of the night. I sang to him, badly, but I sang. I walked him for hours when he was teething. She didn't breastfeed him, she couldn't be bothered; he had formula.

When he'd have his bottle, I'd look at him and marvel at the miracle in my arms and how lucky I was. Sometimes I'd cry because my heart overflowed with the joy of him. He was never a chore, even when he was sick. He was perfect to me. He was the best thing in my world.

The short time I had him, I daydreamed about all of the things I wanted for him. I imagined his soccer games. I taught him to ride a two wheeler. I saw him graduate from high school and college. I went to his wedding and got to dance with the bride. I even saw him make me a grandfather.

None of the daydreams came true. Not a single fucking one.

The day Miguel Raphael Ramos came into this world is the most important day or my life; it always will be. I became a father that day and learned what it was to be truly, completely and hopelessly in love. I take that day off every year. I celebrate who he was, who he might have been, who we might have become alone and together. I remember dreams that will never be.

I had hopes that Rita would come to love our son and quit hating me after he was born. It didn't happen that way. She became more angry and more bitter over time. The other men I could have forgiven, her indifferent coldness toward our son I could not. When I sued for divorce and sole custody of Miguel, she didn't resemble the woman I had loved. She was bitter, drunk, mean spirited, and nasty.

I crossed the small room and sat on his twin bed. I picked up what had been his favorite teddy bear, Osito (little bear), and played a little with the paws. I closed my eyes and held the toy against my chest and breathed it in. Osito no longer smelled of Ivory soap or newness. He smelled of dust and neglect. I used to keep him in a drawer with a bar of Ivory soap so he'd smell like my son did at night after we'd had a bath together. Then I realized it was more important to see the bear and remember the fragrance. I no longer use Ivory and I can't even keep it in my house.

I remembered picking out this white bear with the red and purple paw pads, Miguel was only three. When he was five, he'd told me he was too old to have a bear, but didn't want me to give it away. He wanted me to keep it for when he had a little boy. My ex-wife didn't think boys should have soft toys. I told her he had a whole lifetime to be tough and macho, he would be my little boy for a short time. Now, due to her negligence, he was my little boy for eternity.

I pulled the medallion from around my neck and kissed it and wished it was him instead. "Hey, Miguelito. I've missed talking to you. I just couldn't when I was in Mexico. Forgive me, will you?"

I proceeded to tell him, in little boy terms, about where I'd been, what I'd seen and what I'd done. Things he might have liked, things I was pretty sure he would have hated. It was the Disney version, all G-rated, but it was important to share the experience with him. It was a habit that started when he was a newborn and I'd kept it up long after he died.

"Other than the fact I went for work, it was a pretty cool trip," I said laying my head down on his overly flat pillow. "I don't know that I want to go again for a long time though. I had too much free time and I kept thinking. You know how much I hate it when I think all the time. I'm happier when I'm busy."

I went to confession the morning after the blow up with Stephanie. It wasn't to cleanse myself of any sins I'd recently committed, I went to get the hate, anger, and guilt finally off of my chest. Sure I could have done it alone, but I was never able to and I'd been trying for eight years. Maybe it was because it was a church I didn't regularly attend, maybe it was because I made the confession in Spanish, maybe it was because it was time. I don't know and it doesn't really matter.

When I talked to the priest, he asked if I was finally ready to let it all go and move forward in my life. Until I forgave my ex-wife for the car accident that killed her and my little boy, I was going to remain closed to any new or good thing that came my way. He was right. My heart had been locked away for years.

I asked if he believed in signs from God. He said he did. He also told me to ask God for signs that now was the time to move forward; I had permission.

I lit candles in front of the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe: one for Miguel, one for Rita, one for me. I found my way to a pew, they were virtually all empty, and got on my knees. I said one decade of the rosary and sobbed like a little boy until I had nothing left. I hadn't shed a tear since his funeral. I cried not only for my loss but also for his, a life cut way too short. The promise of his life would be forever unfulfilled all because Rita decided to drink and drive.

I left the confines of the church two hours later and felt better than I had for years. I was given a clean slate and I got my do-over, my mulligan. I wasn't going to waste any more time on anger or bitterness. It was time to turn over a new leaf. Now it was time to learn how to do that, with a little luck.

~x~x~

I woke up fully clothed on top of the bed in Miguel's room. The house was flooded with light. Someone making noise in my house. I was supposed to be done with having other people in my home without my express knowledge or permission.

I found the source of the noise taking clothing out of the closet in my bedroom.

"I knocked before I used my key," she said quietly. "You didn't answer and I wanted to get my stuff out of the house." She looked exhausted, sad, and defeated. It was all my fault.

"I wasn't going to sell it or burn it," I said with a yawn. I hadn't scheduled a time yet to get her stuff moved back to her apartment, then again, I'd only been home one night.

"You need to get your own life back and so do I," she said. Very quietly she added, "At least you warned me."

"Warned you?"

"Maybe warned isn't the right word, but you put me on notice. You told me that if I got attached, I'd have to deal with it on my own time." She removed the rings from her left hand and passed them to me. "I don't know if you can still get your money back or whatever, but I don't want to keep these. It isn't right."

I finally got used to seeing the rings on her hand a few days ago, the sight of them no longer made me queasy. Now her hand looked so wrong without the gold adornments. Naked. Empty.

I put them in a box on top of the dresser and nodded. I didn't want her to know that they were cubic zirconia and had little tracking devices built into the settings. Each ring had been altered with its own signal in the event she lost or damaged one, the others might survive. No point in upsetting her any further by telling her now that I'd been able to track her movements in multiple ways for months. Had it really been that long?

I knew the first time we'd had sex she was going to be attached, but I needed her to be; it was for the good of the job. I manipulated her, but she knew all the rules going in. I needed to make sure she didn't trip up the cover. You can't fake intimacy, I've tried. People can tell and that risk was just too high.

Usually when something turns ugly or ends, I'm far from the impact zone. I don't answer the phone for a couple of days. The fallout is another reason that I give so many numbers to Lester; he's better able to take the emotional meltdowns. Lester enjoys pity sex and is willing to provide it. I was tempted to call him after she left and to let him know she'd be needing comfort. Then again, I'd have to kill him if he comforted her and I found out about it.

I stood behind her and gently looped my arms around her middle, I closed my eyes and breathed in her hair and that smell that was uniquely her own. I wanted to remember feeling her like this just one more time. I wanted to take my time to memorize the details that I'd taken for granted for months. I don't make it a point to remember the details of my encounters, but she wasn't even close to being just an encounter anymore; the first week or so, yes, but now, no.

She was the second longest relationship I've had in my entire life and it was all a fucking act. No wonder I prefer the casual scene. At least this time when the relationship ended it wasn't supposed to be my fault or hers. The end was orchestrated so that there was no guilt, hate or bitterness on either side. If that was the goal when this all started, why do I feel so empty? Why had I let her get so hurt? It doesn't matter. What's done is done.

"Aren't you taking yours off?" she asked indicating the ring on my hand.

"No.

My ring had belonged to my grandfather. He had been married to my grandmother for 48 years when she died. He wore it for the next ten years even though she was gone. It was the only thing I had from him. My grandfather was special to me. By wearing his ring, I thought maybe I'd be able to find someone and learn to love again. I just wanted to know how it felt; you know?

"Do you want breakfast?" I asked.

"It's two in the afternoon."

"Okay, how about a late lunch or a very early dinner? I'm starved."

"I'm just going to pack up so you can get your life back. I don't want there to be any weirdness between us now that it's officially over. We each need our own space."

"Let me at least help you pack," I said. "Want some coffee?"

"Sure," she said her voice just above a whisper.

I pulled her boxes and duffels out of the top of the closet and laid them on the bed, then proceeded to the kitchen to make coffee. I opened the fridge and then the freezer and realized I didn't have anything that was fit for human consumption.

"I'm thinking about going out to grab something to eat. I'm out of everything, even coffee. Please, come with me," I said holding my hand out to her.

"No, I can't but thanks. Don't let me stop you. I know where everything is," she said, emptying out what had been her lingerie drawer.

"In that case, I'll be back in fifteen," I said as I pocketed the keys and grabbed my wallet from the top of the dresser. "Call if you change your mind."

"Sure."

The food run took longer than I thought. She was gone when I got returned. All of the drawers had been ransacked. The closet was devoid of her clothes, except for the wedding dress. Even the bathroom had been denuded of all traces of Stephanie. It was like someone had lit a fire and she was moving like a bat out of hell.

My house was now mine again and it felt very vacant, hollow almost.

The only obvious telltale sign she'd been there, a picture from 'the wedding', a black and white print. It was a contrast between us, her light to my dark. For as many pictures as Hector took that day it was hard to believe it was the only good picture of the two of us, a shot of us kissing in front of the altar. Next to the picture was her copy of the house key.

She was gone. This was what I wanted, wasn't it?

~x~x~

Before we left on our initial trip, I'd done a couple of random checks to make sure that Stephanie's necklace could transmit sound as well as location. We were together most of the time and it was just a safety measure. Before I deactivated the chip, I decided to have a listen to see if it was still working. Unfortunately, it was.

"_I already told you no, Ranger," she said. "It's a lovely offer, but I'm not interested."_

Perfect.

"_I want you to move to Miami and work in the office there. Now's a great time to start over."_

"_Everyone who is important to me is here."_

"_Exactly and most of them aren't good for you," he said. "Why not go some place where no one knows you so you can start again?"_

"_I can't do that to my family; just up and leave. I've been gone too long as it is. Besides, the feds wanted John Russo and his organization has folded. There's no motivation or reason to move."_

"_I could give you a reason if you really need it."_

Of course he could.

"_What's Manny going to do?"_

"_Doesn't matter. This is about you and your future."_

Yeah, he'd just love to have her at the Miami office; he'll probably move the headquarters of the company to Miami inside four weeks and move her into his apartment within five.

"_No, I want to know. Please, Ranger?_

"_He's talked about leaving the company and maybe relocating. That's all I know. If you want any more information, talk to him."_

He wasn't telling her not because he didn't know, but because he wanted to try to grab the brass ring for himself. Bastard. Then again, so am I. I tuned out. I couldn't listen to him sway her decisions. Why had I been so emphatic she never take the fucking necklace off? I'm a God damned idiot, that's why.

Several minutes later, curiosity about killed the cat and I turned the thing on again to listen.

"_You really want to know what I want? Do you, really?" she asked the tone in her voice was incredibly defeated._

No answer.

"_I want it all, Ranger and more than that I deserve it all. I don't want to come in second place to anything or anyone. I don't want deceit or partial truths. I want a man who will tell me about himself, everything. I want to know his past, his pain, his joy and his dreams."_

Tall order. I don't know many men who would be willing to fill it. I know I'm not filling it.

"_Babe."_

"_Ranger, I already know what you have to offer and I don't want it. It might have been good enough six months ago or maybe last year, but it isn't now. It probably wouldn't have been then either. I might have let you seduce me into whatever you wanted and then we'd both hate each other. It's better this way."_

"_Babe, I can-"_

"_No Ranger, you can't. I don't know any man who can or will. I'm not even going to look."_

The conversation went from there but I didn't want to listen to it. Unfortunately for me, her conversation was a train wreck and I couldn't stay away. I turned the volume down and came back to it several minutes later. I heard was the sound of her heart breaking all over again.

"_Stephanie, it'll all be okay."_

"_You can't promise that. No one can," she was audibly crying. _

I had only heard her cry like that twice and both times had been my fault. I think I like it better when she's angry and lashing out, then I have a reason to justify myself and my actions.

"_True, but I can promise I'll always be here for you."_

"_Ranger, if you ever find a nice, normal guy, will you introduce me to him?" she asked, her voice watery this time and she attempted a laugh._

"_I don't play matchmaker, Babe. It's a great way to lose friendships."_

"_No, I don't want a fix up. I just want to know what normal looks like, seems like they are a dying breed."_

"_I'll see, but I'm not a good source of normal."_

"_I know."_

"_So, what about Miami? I think you'd be happy there. We could be happy there."_

"_No."_

"_You like that word but you use it too much. Just a short visit, you could see Julie. Please?"_

"_No. And the word please doesn't work like it used to, it no longer guarantees my compliance. Sorry, Ranger."_

I deactivated the chip and threw the laptop to the ground. It was the only computer that had the software specific to her chip and I never wanted to hear those conversations ever again.

~x~x~

I went back to work later that week and was hailed the conquering hero. John Russo was dead and his organization wasn't built to survive without him. Joseph Lipari and Matt Sanders escaped the blast and, courtesy of the US Marshals, went into retirement with their families and new identities for all. The cache of five-hundred unregistered weapons was destroyed. The job was over and it was considered a success and declared incredibly clean. Professionally, everyone came out a winner. Personally, it was a different story.

My life wouldn't be the same, but it hadn't been since I let the word 'husband' slip through the cracks at her chiropractor's office months ago, or was it years ago? It felt like forever ago that I got Velcroed to Stephanie Plum and now the Velcro was almost ripped free. There was just that little electronic record to be obliterated and my life would return to normal.

Nice as it was to be back, the whole thing was difficult; I had paperwork to complete and files to pass on to someone else. I wasn't going to be part of the daily life around the office anymore and I was glad of it. Time to make a new life. I was going to do special projects and be on the fringes. I was on the fringe of having my own life, it fit and worked for me.

The worst part of my return was being peppered with questions in the break room by all of the guys on what it was like to live with Stephanie.

"She's a typical woman; high maintenance and moody. I don't want to talk about it. The job is done." I really didn't want to answer any more questions about her or us, not that there ever really was an us.

"Are you going to date her now?" Zip asked.

"No. I wasn't going to date her before, no point in dating her now."

"Can I have her number?" Slick asked.

"Her number's in the book. Or you can swing by Plum Bail Bonds and see if they'll give it to you."

"If you don't want her, why are you making this so difficult?" Slick asked.

"Yes, Manny, why are you making it difficult to give up Stephanie's phone number?" Ranger asked as he came up next to me.

"They're all big boys and if they want the big prize, they should work for it."

"Let me know if you need to talk about this later," Ranger said quietly as he grabbed a cup of coffee. "We'll start a support group."

It sounded like he was being snide, but he actually looked pretty sincere about it. Hell, maybe we have more in common than I want to admit.

* * *

A/N: Wish I could wish you all a Happy Manny Monday – but not this week … things will get better next week, I swear!

Two chapters to go...


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: No one could have more fun with MM, including JE ... she however is paid for the pleasure.**

**A/N: You've had two tough Manny Mondays, for which the plotbunnies and I apologize. This is a little angsty, but does leave in a much better place than the other two chapters. Thanks for bearing with me!  
**

**Expect the Unexpected 27  
Manny's Story  
Alfonsina**

Since being stateside, I felt _old._ Sure I'm in decent shape, but let the other guys suffer the bruises, the aches, and the pains. In general, security the way we do it is a young man's game. Let the young play it. Time for a new game, a new adventure.

Between the trips, I changed my contract to just do piecemeal work when the job was over. I opted to retrofit vehicles with whatever bugs, bomb detection devices, and the like because I no longer had a desire or a need to do surveillance or other fieldwork with the guys. Heaven was going to exist in the form of a schedule of three or four workdays per week with weekends, holidays and evenings off.

The only thing I was going to miss about the old routine and the old life was my partnership with Zero. In the four years we've been a team and become like brothers. He's my closest friend and I distanced myself even from him since I'd been home this last time. I always found a reason not to be available to go clubbing or engage in any of our previous favored and well practiced pursuits. I just couldn't make myself go; I had no desire or need to do things the way I had.

Ranger had new paperwork sent to me so I could change my will and insurance back and remove Stephanie as my beneficiary. I threw the paperwork away, twice. When the HR department called me, saying I'd been emphatic about the change, I told them I'd let them know if I changed my mind by coming down in person to do complete the forms.

I banked a substantial bonus as a result of this long job; I had no debt of any kind and I had a nicely padded little nest egg. It was the perfect time to start a new life. I always wanted to restore bikes full time and even get a little into hotrods. I had all of the equipment and most of the expertise, why not really let my hobby become my life? I've heard it said that if you love what you do, you will never work another day in your life. I'm ready for life, now I just need a new location.

Zero resumed his place in my life by going to work sorting equipment bins and parts in my garage. While he was there he gave me shit on a regular basis about the wedding ring and staying home at night. The ring? It was glued to my finger. There was no removing it until the legalities were over one way or another. I'm loyal to a fault. She has no idea and she never will.

"You're still wearing that thing? You won't ever get laid if you keep that on when you go to a bar," Zero said over lunch.

"Yes, I still have it on. I'm not in a hurry to get laid." My libido went down the drain in Mexico the night of my confrontation with Stephanie.

"Man, you are totally whipped. I never thought I'd see the day. Damn."

"No, I'm not. The ring was my grandfather's. Wearing it has nothing to do with Stephanie."

"At least put it on the other hand. I can't use you for a wingman the next time I take you out if you look married. Actually I can, but married tends to slow things down."

"It doesn't fit the right hand." Actually I had no idea if it fit that hand or not, I'd never tried it there and hadn't planned to move it.

"Whatever you say. Hey, have you ever watched the file on the flash drive I gave you?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"No." I hadn't watched it and had no plans to now or in the future.

"Man, you should. It will warm you up when you're in your bed cold and alone."

"I didn't think you watched it," I said. Ass. If he smiled any bigger, I might be able to knock in at least ten of his teeth. Tempting.

"I didn't watch it on the computer, I saw the live show. Still makes me say 'damn' when I think about it."

"I don't want to hear about it again. What happened, happened. It's over and I don't want to think about it."

"Your lips say 'no no' but your eyes say 'yes yes'."

"I don't even know where the flash drive is." It's undisturbed in a small box in the man cave next to the leather wrist strap Miguel made for me in his kindergarten class.

"Such a waste. You're no fun anymore. We seriously need to get you out and get you in the saddle again so you get your personality back."

I'm the first to admit that I changed in almost all respects. I started to travel on the weekends to trade shows for both vintage bikes and hotrods. There wasn't one every weekend, but summer and early fall is prime time to show off the toys. I made connections, built my personal network, and got a real idea of what it would take to make my business profitable. It was no longer my cover, it was going to shape the rest of my life. Besides, if I traveled I didn't have to make excuses to Zero why I didn't want to go bar hopping.

When I'm busy, I don't think or contemplate my life. When I'm busy, I don't examine my soul for all of my failures. When I'm busy, I don't play those stupid 'what if' games. When I'm busy, I get too tired to worry about the fact I have no personal life or the fact that I don't want one.

Every couple of days, I'd check with the contact at the Statistics Office to see if there was still a record of my 'marriage' to Stephanie. At first I was angry it was there, then I came to expect it. It would probably be months before it was expunged. I was no longer in a rush to make it go away; the phone call was habit – almost a reflex.

In my home there were no longer any traces of _wedded bliss _except for the contents of my bedroom. I had our picture and her house key where they were the last time she was here. I could see them whenever I entered the room. Because of it, I quit coming into the room.

I started to sleep in the man cave. The twin was decent and Miguel had never slept in it. There was no point in not using it; it had no ghosts to haunt me. Besides, I couldn't get comfortable on the big bed all by myself. It didn't matter which side I tried to sleep on, it felt wrong. I even bought a full body pillow to snuggle against and a bottle of Stephanie's perfume so it would smell like her; they didn't help. I was better off on the twin in the other room than fighting to sleep with a ghost.

I bought all new coffee cups because there were lipstick stains everything in the cabinet. I didn't throw the old ones away, but I couldn't look at them anymore either. I made an exception for my favorite coffee cup, it was oversized and had lipstick stains all around the rim; there was no getting them off even with bleach. I pretended they weren't there anymore when I drank from the mug. I never used any of the new ones. I ate microwaveable dinners and using paper plates and cutlery; nothing in or about my kitchen felt right anymore. I quit drinking coffee of any type and put the coffee maker in the back of a cabinet. I found an ancient kettle to boil water for tea.

I changed bathrooms. Just because I was still using Dial soap because she preferred it to the Irish Spring I preferred meant nothing. The fact that I still used her lavender fragrance fabric softener in every load of laundry was irrelevant; I only planned to use it until the bottle ran out. I now used an electric razor in the mornings; the others made me think of her. I even bought a tube of the conditioner she liked me to use because she thought my hair felt silkier; it now had less tangles.

I went to the paint store and selected fifteen gallons of vivid pigment for the walls. I chose them all from the clearance rack. I filled my cart with the buckets rags, brushes, and paint pans. I made it all the way to the check out before I decided to leave it all there. I can't stand the smell of fresh paint, I could live with boring another few months; it was easier and cheaper.

Stephanie was everywhere in my house and nowhere at the same time. I was being haunted by a woman who was alive in ways my ex-wife never could have haunted me.

~x~x~

Finally it was over. Almost six weeks after being home, I was a completely and officially a free agent once again. To celebrate, I called Brenda and set a date for Friday night. She canceled early in the day, claimed she was planning to have a headache that night.

Half of my black book wasn't taking my calls. The ones who did all heard I was now married and into commitment. None of them thought I should mess that up so early on. They'd see if I was still interested in a couple of years; it sounded like Lester had been busy. I knew I should have rented a safe deposit box for that book instead of leaving it in Lester's wall safe.

Zero and I planned to hit the clubs in honor of my new found freedom. The plan was to find easy pickings, get some blonde's libido stirred up, and then shag her until she couldn't walk when it was over and start the cycle again next weekend.

It was time for me to get back in the game and finish reclaiming my life.

Too bad my heart wasn't in it. But I had to go, had to reclaim my life. Didn't I?

Throb was the newest and, by default, the best club in the area. It had been open less than six months and there were no major scandals associated with it. I'd been to countless bars like it over the years and didn't expect to find anything different. The crowd averaged ten to fifteen years younger than me. The some of the women dressed borderline slutty, others crossed the border.

I got a beer, whatever was cold and on tap, they all taste the same anyway, and stared into the crowd. There was the standard cache of people on the dance floor trying to have sex with their clothes on. The way some of those women moved was mesmerizing and looked evocatively familiar.

There was one woman in particular who looked almost like she was in a spotlight. She had a nice figure, proportional and very real. I loved the way she moved even though her hair was a little dark and too curly for my liking. It wasn't until she'd basically circled her partner that I recognized her.

It was Stephanie.

Son of a bitch. She looked like she was having fun. Too much fun for my taste and that gorilla had his hands everywhere. I should have walked away, but I couldn't. I should have looked away since my feet weren't working. I couldn't do that either. I was frozen and unable to do anything.

She looked into the crowd and she spotted me. I don't know what was going through her head but she tried to get her partner off the dance floor and away from me. I must have had on the big bad wolf face.

Magically, my feet began to work and in three strides I blocked her exit.

"Nieves, having a good time?" I asked.

"I was. You're ruining my good time and it sounds like you're drunk, Manny."

"You know me better than that." This was the first drink since I'd been back; the one before that was in that fucking bar before we left Mexico when my life went pear shaped.

"So is this guy your ex or something?" asked the blond who was draped over Stephanie like a bad rug. "I can get rid of him for you."

I raised my left hand and displayed the ring that I hadn't been able to take off since we'd initially posed for wedding pictures; well it had been off when I was working on engines, but then it was on a leather cord around my neck. I'd been home almost six weeks and I still couldn't do it; it was now part of my hand and part of my life.

"Bounce." I said it with a quiet threat in my voice.

"But I thought you weren't with anyone," the blond said as he disengaged from her and put some space between them. Smart boy.

"I wasn't," she said. "I mean, I'm not. Manuel Ramos, you have no right to be here."

"Leave," I said to the man. "She won't be calling you."

He looked at her and then back at me; he left under his own steam. He found another dance partner almost immediately.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing in a place like this? It's a damn meat market," I said. "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"You're one to talk since you're here, too. What am I doing? Let's see. I'm letting my hair down. I'm having a good time. I'm trying to meet new people, maybe even single and emotionally available men. And what I've had to drink is none of your business," she said. "You were the one who said I should get over you on my own time. You told me that long before things even started. This is me getting over you on my own time and in my own way, Manuel Rafael Ramos. Leave me alone. We aren't married now and we weren't married then. You don't own me; you no longer have a claim."

"I can't leave you alone. I was wrong," I said, trying to draw her into my body. "I can't stop thinking about you. I want you."

"Not my problem," she said pulling away from me. "You made it clear from the outset that when it was over, it was over."

"It isn't over, not for me and I don't think for you either. It's only just begun," I said. "But if you really want it over, I'll respect your decision. Let me know if you still want someone normal. I'll find one and introduce you. But I can guarantee you, Stephanie, you won't find anyone else here tonight; I'll make sure of it."

She curled her lip in disgust. "Are you sure about that? Pat seemed pretty normal. Normal is important to me. Probably more than ever."

I grasped her elbow and started walking her, none too gently, out the door toward the parking lot. The bouncer glared at me, I returned the look. Once we'd left the building and I could finally hear again, I asked a second time her how much she'd had to drink.

"Let's see, I had Sex on the Beach – Jersey style, it left me flat. They didn't know how to make a Slow Screw Up Against the Wall, the bartender improvised, but it wasn't right. I guess those are both your specialty. So I changed to the Long Island Ice Teas. I'm fine. I only had about four drinks. Maybe five."

"No, you aren't fine. I'm taking you home."

I opened the cab of my truck, ushered her inside and belted her in. She passed out with her head on my shoulder before the first red light.

She'd gone above and beyond for the job, to the point of really acting like she was my wife in every regard, complete with necessary flirting in public and jealous behavior toward other women. Not to mention the sex. While we were in Mexico, she'd gotten completely under my skin and I didn't want to let her go. I was miserable without her; I had been from the minute she'd seen me with the blonde.

For years I'd been incredibly closed off. I was attached to no one and nothing. I never realized I'd missed the feeling of being attached and connected to someone. I was under the misguided impression that if no one was in my life, I couldn't lose anything more than I'd already lost. I didn't realize there were future experiences that were rich and I'd forfeit all of them by not allowing anyone in at some level, even if it was limited.

When I parked the truck in the driveway, I opened the door to the house first and then came back for her. I carried her into the bedroom, closed the truck up, and locked the front door. I got her out of the contraption she'd been wearing and slipped a sleep shirt over her head and laid her out in her familiar spot on the bed.

One evening not long ago, I wandered a big-box store and stumbled onto a Snow White night shirt. It would probably be huge on her, but her birthday was coming up and I wanted to give her something small to remember me by even if she never wore it. I'd looked at all kinds of things I could have purchased for her while we were together, but nothing was ever right other than the bra and panty set I gave her and I'm pretty sure she got rid of those. This shirt probably isn't right either, but it made me smile; it looked like her, the way I saw her.

About three o'clock in the morning I felt her head on my shoulder, her hand across my chest, and her leg almost all the way across my hip. With a little maneuvering, I could slip inside her again, probably for the last time. It was all I could do to stop myself from penetrating her; we'd woken each other with our sexual needs several times and it had never been greeted badly, but I didn't want to risk it. Not tonight.

I slept poorly for weeks. I'd quickly gotten used to having someone in bed with me and the pleasure of hearing her breathe. She took over my dreams nightly and they weren't sexual dreams; they were remembrances of her smell, the curve of her smile, the dull razor in the morning, the lack of room in the medicine cabinet. I'd wake with a longing for her that left me feeling cold, empty, and alone. I was more alone than I had been in years. If this was my last chance to hold her and experience whatever it was we'd had together, I was going to take it for all it was worth and hold the memories as closely as possible.

I can sleep when I'm dead.

She sighed a little as she rubbed my chest. She mumbled, "Good, you're really here. It was all just a bad dream."

"Nieves, baby, what were you dreaming about?" I whispered the words, not wanting to disturb her 'dream'.

"You were kissing someone else. You didn't want me. You didn't even like me anymore. It hurt so much that I cared and you didn't."

"I promise better dreams from now on. Go back to sleep, Nieves." I picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "¿Sabes que? Te quiero tanto."

She sighed again and snuggled a little closer. "Cariño, you smell like smoke and stale beer."

"So do you," I said. "Sleep, Steph, just sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I promise. Palabra. Te lo juro." (word of honor; I swear it)

I woke every few minutes to make sure she was still there. I'd started to emotionally disentangle from her before the job ended and then she shoved me out the door. I wanted it all back and it wasn't possible. She hadn't returned my calls, e-mails or text messages; she'd cut me out completely and it was the way it was supposed to be. The break between us was complete.

Then last night happened.

Last night I'd pulled a Tarzan and claimed her as my Jane. I haven't done anything that stupid or macho in years. Not to mention that I'd carpooled with Zero and stranded him at the club. Then again, Zero probably already had a honey for the night picked out when I left with Stephanie.

Now what the hell was I going to do about her? I'd been afraid of something like this in the beginning. Not that she wouldn't be able to disconnect emotionally or physically from me; I'd seen her do it to two men different men in one year, what would be one more disconnection? She had plenty of practice and it might be easy for her. I'm the one with the problem.

I don't disconnect which is why I don't connect, hadn't connected to anyone in recent years.

I'd promised myself when I got home, I'd be different, normal. I promised I'd start over and be authentic in my next relationship.

It wasn't working. I couldn't move forward and when I wanted to move back to the patterns and habits that were strong, maybe too strong, I couldn't do that either. I was frozen in every aspect of my life. I needed new patterns and new habits, a clean slate so to speak.

~x~x~

Light was coming through the window and her body was stirring against mine. Snow White was awake and probably wasn't going to be happy when she realized where she was and with whom. It was an acting job that had gotten completely FUBAR'd; neither of us was capable of acting. Things had changed and neither of us could admit it or wanted to admit it.

She asked, "Why am I here?"

"All the great philosophers are looking for an answer to that question. In fact, they've been trying to answer that for centuries." I had an arm around her shoulders keeping her against my body. It wasn't hard or painful, but I didn't want to let go of my grip.

"No, Manny, why am I in bed with you? You were going to take me home."

"I did. I brought you home. This is home, for both of us." The words came out sounding tentative to my own ears, but this was what home felt like. I wanted it to be true for both of us. I _needed_ it to be true at least a little longer.

"You aren't very funny. I need to go," she said, trying to get out of my grip.

"Don't you think that maybe I want a chance to talk to you and explain things?"

"Why should you?"

"I deserve it, so do you. You know that."

"No, I don't know that."

"Didn't you read my note?"

She had a blank look on her face.

"I put it in with your underwear before your stuff was moved out of the room." It wasn't that long ago that we were living out of the other's suitcases.

"I never saw it." Her face reddened out of embarrassment, so she's got some humility left.

"Not even when you unpacked?"

"I never unpacked. My luggage was packed by housekeeping and they'd done my laundry for me. I left it in my storage locker in the basement until next year. I didn't want to think about it and I sure didn't want to unpack it, wash it and store it again. The only thing I unpacked was the carryon bag because that had my make up."

I counted to ten as slowly as I could. She'd been pig headed and impulsive, then she'd missed what I thought I'd wanted her to know even though it wasn't enough.

"Stephanie, please sweetheart, this time listen."

"But…"

"No but," I said, putting my finger to her lips. "You talked the last time and you didn't have all the facts. You didn't give me a chance to talk. You never heard me out. This is my turn."

She nodded. It was taking all of the control she had not to say anything. But this was my turn and, damn it, I was going to take it.

"Let me start with a question. Do you remember all the times we made love?

"Manny we had sex, we weren't making love. Oh God, we didn't last night, did we?"

"No, I'm all about consensual and you weren't in a position to consent to anything last night. I did put you in something more comfortable to sleep in though."

"Oh. Okay then. Wait, no panties? I don't remember this shirt. Where are my clothes?"

"The shirt is for your birthday next week. About the panties, I've never known you to sleep in them but the first night. Your clothes from last night are hanging in the closet. You're interrupting." She'd tried to wear panties to bed a couple of times. It made both our lives easier when she gave up wearing them to bed.

"Okay. I'll be quiet."

"Let me try again. Do you remember all the times you were having sex and I was making love with you, I'd say 'te quiero'?"

"Yeah, you told me it meant something along the lines of 'I want you' or something like that. Right?"

"Not exactly. Te quiero can mean 'I want you.' It can also mean, 'I like you.' And that's how I meant it in the beginning. I liked you and I wanted you all of the time, I couldn't get enough of you. I thought I could quit when it was over and I couldn't. I can't."

"I liked you and wanted you, too."

"There's a third way it can be used," I said as I closed my eyes. "It also means, 'I love you.' And as time went by, that's what I meant when I said it."

"I thought that was 'te amo' just like in Italian."

"Te amo is more like 'I'm in love with you', it's deeper … kind of like the love when you marry someone. I wasn't ready to admit that to myself about you, even if it might be true."

"It might be?" she asked. "Really?"

I closed my eyes and bobbed my head once.

"Oh."

"At one point, I changed it to 'te quiero tanto.' Do you remember?"

"Yeah. I thought you wanted to play Lone Ranger and Tonto or something. I didn't want to know if you had a costume fetish, so I left it alone."

"No, Nieves, it means 'I love you so much.' I could admit almost anything in Spanish but not in English. You accepted a lot of things in Spanish that you rejected whenever I tried to tell you in English; my ego couldn't take the rejection. So you know, I swore to you repeatedly how I felt and what you meant to me."

"I wouldn't have rejected you or what you had to say," she said. "What do you mean 'sworn it'?"

"The words 'te lo juro' mean I swear it. I swore it nightly for weeks. Before we headed on our road trip I overheard the run in with David in the hallway. That night I needed to swear to you how I felt about you. I needed you to know the things I said to you during sex weren't banal or bogus. The words were real, the feelings were real, I was real; I am real. I was afraid to admit any of it in English because I didn't know how you'd take it. Besides, you rejected me immediately when you thought you saw something that wasn't true, you gave me no chance to explain things."

"I'm sorry," she said with a quiet sniff. "Why don't you keep a box of tissues in here?"

I felt around the nightstand on my side and handed one to her before I started to talk again. "I haven't lied to you, but I haven't told you everything either. You aren't the only one who's been lied to, cheated on, or lost in the game of love. We all have, just to varying degrees."

"You're right. I only ever see my own side of things." She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and held her hand out for another tissue. I handed her a wad, no point in counting them out.

"Right now, I'm complete with everything I need to say to you. If you still want to leave, I'll drive you back to your car."

"If I don't want to leave?"

"Then you'd better get comfortable. I don't expose my past to anyone and you need to hear it if you want to move forward with me in any capacity. The choice is yours. Do you want to stay or go?"

"Right now, I want to go to the bathroom and have a drink of water."

"And after you've done that?"

"I'd like to stay," she said quietly. "Oh, and Cariño?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't having sex either," she said as she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. "Te lo juro."

* * *

A/N: Next week is the final chapter ... thanks so much for bearing with me and giving Manny a chance! Finally a happy Manny Monday! (yes the date stamp shows Sunday night, but it's midnight here and close enough for me - regardless of their timestamp)

PS - thanks as always for reading and reviewing!


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: Had lots of fun, but no remuneration … such is life … and remember Ladies, Merry Men are ALL worthy of TLC!!!**

_A/N: Since this is the last chapter, I must do the all important Academy Awards Acceptance speech (and yes, I know they get longer with each story – but this wouldn't have happened without them)._

_I'd like to thank _Adalind_, Bluzkat, Harmne, Kate Manoso, Spudmom, Magdalync, Robin, Windswept Farms for your continued support of MM stories. You ladies have made it possible for me to believe in myself and the power of storytelling. You helped me understand that a good story, an unpredictable story is worth sharing as well as worth writing._

_To __Rangerhunters__, you have been an incredible support through my endeavor … I count you among the converts (Manny will be stopping by later to make sure you stay converted) … you prove it can be done!_

_To Katbaby who asked all of the questions in the beginning … babe, you made me know this was possible and you made me think of all the eventualities and made me push my boundaries – thanks, now go play with Sundance!_

_To Tuck and Liz, thanks for letting Manny play on your board and letting Manny get the extra exposure he deserved. He sends love, kisses, and offers to put suntan oil on either of you whenever and wherever you desire!_

_To Tiinabelle, plot bunny extraordinaire, Baby, it just wouldn't have been Manny without you. He would have been pale, pasty, and never would have told me what was in the man cave. Let's do it again soon. You've inspired my favorite words for which I owe you a debt of gratitude! I can't wait until we get Daniel all of the way off the ground. _

_To all who have read and reviewed, thank you for being willing to not only read but accept an alternate pairing. Manny will be nearly naked and serving drinks by the bar for happy hour. _

**Expect the Unexpected 28 – Final Chapter  
Manny's Story**

**By Alfonsina**

"Get dressed," I said. I pulled a mismatched pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt, a thick pair of socks, and a t-shirt for her to wear. I tossed them on the bed so she wouldn't try to have her way with me. I'd just gotten up and dressed to reduce my own temptation. We really needed to talk. It was now or never.

"I'm comfy here, I'd rather be naked." She patted the bed to encourage me. "There's lots of room and I don't bite." Yes she does, but only on request.

It was a tempting offer, but it would have led to sex and no talking and no resolution. We were great at sex but needed to work on communication, at least I did.

She finally conceded and put on the clothes. She wouldn't let me leave and she made a production out of it. It was kind of like watching a reverse strip tease. Who knew watching someone 'put it all on' could be so enticing? My libido decided that it was time to wake up, my willpower was more than stretched.

We had cold cereal, coffee and toast for breakfast. It wasn't what she wanted, she wanted doughnuts. The pastry shop is nowhere near my place.

"We need to have total disclosure," I said, glancing at her over my coffee cup, "about everything." I knew it was what she really wanted and I was finally willing to do it, just for her and just this once.

"Everything?"

"Yes. And I need to be the one to start." I told her about my marriage to Rita, my son, my heartache and pain. I explained that I had been trying to punish a dead woman for destroying my life and my world; it was why I didn't do relationships of any kind. I'd been numb to that pain for so many years that now that I allowed myself to have a semi-relationship, I was more than a bit of an asshole at times and very territorial.

"No, you aren't an asshole. Flawed maybe, but we all are," she said taking my hand. "Even when you think you need to stake your claim in public, you really are a good guy."

"I'm glad you think so. You don't hear my inner dialog," I said with a pained smile. I didn't listen to most of it either, but when I did it was replete with self castigation. "Your turn."

She told me about fitting into everyone else's expectations; that was reason she married Mr. Wrong the first time. She also told me that she had a hard time breaking her patterns which was why she had been back and forth with Joe Morelli for so long and why she let Ranger play with her emotions.

"Don't you think you deserve better than that?" I asked. I wanted to say 'this time' but couldn't get the words out; they died in my throat.

"I do, but habits are hard to break."

"The trick with that," I said leaving the table to get the coffee pot from the kitchen, "is to replace it with a new habit."

I refilled both mugs; she added the flavored creamer to both until they were right.

"I wanted to tell you that I kicked my drug of choice during this job," I said quietly. "Thank you."

"What are you talking about? Ranger does periodic drug testing on everybody, even the contractor employees."

"Not that kind of drug. My drug of choice was the pursuit and seduction of women who had no meaning in my life. They were a series of interchangeable, living, breathing Barbie dolls. I was punishing Rita and I didn't feel quite so alone for a few minutes. Just so you know, you were never a Barbie to me," I said. She looked worried so I continued, "You were so much more than that, so much better."

"Glad to know I was of help," she said looking incredibly uncomfortable. "You didn't have any slip ups, did you?"

"No. Well, almost. The night when you saw me with Lucy was almost a relapse. It would have been under other circumstances. Not even a temptation since."

"Okay." My mother would have been proud, she got at least four syllables out of the word okay.

"I want, no I need you to know that she came to me, she flirted with me, she kissed me."

"You don't like aggressive women?"

"Not when I'm already with someone and I was definitely with someone." I shrugged. At least the emotion about the incident appeared to be gone. "I wouldn't have let anything go any further. You just appeared at the best possible instance for me to blow my credibility with you. I'm sorry it happened and I'm sorry you saw it."

"Me, too. It made me feel like there are no men who are faithful; it hurt to think that especially about you. I mean, I knew things with you were about to end; it had been a great fantasy. There was so much about it that was good, you know?"

I nodded. "Do you want anything else to eat or more coffee?"

"I'm good. Nothing else for me. Can we walk for a while? Never mind, I don't have decent walking shoes."

"Sure you do," I said. "Be right back."

I retrieved a pair of her tatty old sneakers from underneath my bed. She hadn't worn them when she stayed here, but had stored them in an effort for things to look real. When she packed up, they were left behind.

"I forgot about those. Thanks."

After she put them on, she took my hand and followed me out the door to my truck.

"I thought we were going to walk."

"We will, but I want to go somewhere quiet."

The truck drove itself to the same park where I gave her some naughty Spanish a lifetime ago. It was as good a spot as any and the place was empty, even better.

"So," I said, "have you dated anyone lately?" I tried to be casual in my manner and tone, but wasn't, not at all.

"No. I mean, I've been looking, but only sort of. Have you?" She attempted to be nonchalant, too. Neither of us could carry it off.

"No. Because I'm like you, I don't cheat because I know how much it hurts to be cheated on. I especially don't cheat when I'm married." I said the 'm' word quietly. I know she heard it because her breathing changed immediately.

"We were never married. Binky told dirty jokes when he was standing at the altar, he didn't say anything about 'dearly beloved'. He was just a model for the pictures," she said.

"Actually he's ordained through an internet place and has been for years. Now, do you remember the day when you had to sign the marriage license in front of Ranger, Binky, Zero and me?"

"Yeah. You said that Hank needed to send it in for my passport; that I'd been turned down because they couldn't …" Her eyes widened and then she said, "It was real, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. We knew John Russo was going to investigate when he asked for the details of your divorce. The documentation had to stand up to his team's scrutiny. The license was filed electronically."

"But it was backdated, to February 25th. Hey, what's so important about that date anyway?"

I stopped walking and took her hand. "It's Miguel's birthday. It was the best day of my life, probably always will be." I tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.

"You still miss him, don't you?" She was searching my eyes; if she was looking for pain, she found it.

"Yeah. He's my big dark secret. He's what I've kept hidden away in that room. I have all of his toys, books, and games in there, plus all the photos and scrapbooks."

She took my hand, squeezed it and asked, "What do you miss the most?"

"Tucking him in, listening to his prayers, and kissing him good night."

"Is that why-"

"Yes, that's why it was such a big deal to me to teach you the Our Father in Spanish. I never got a chance to teach him how. Thanks for learning it for me." I'd taught her one phrase at a time when we'd sit in church before we reviewed notes and details of the job. It had taken me weeks to teach her because I'd never given her a motivation other than it would get her to blend in with the rest of the congregation; she had no interest in keeping up with any of them.

"No, I meant about you kissing the medallion every night. I assume it reminds you of him."

I nodded. "Yeah, it's San Miguel, I bought it the day he died; it's the only way I can still kiss him goodnight. It is the only outward sign I show anyone that he was important to me."

"Is important. He still is important to you." She was right, he always will be important to me. The pain had dulled to an ache, but it would be with me for the rest of my life. She gently kissed me and then backed away.

"Anyway, back to your original question," I said. I needed to get off of the topic of Miguel before I made a fool of myself; he's the wound that will never completely heal. "If you know the right people, you can make almost anything happen. In this case, enough favors were called in that it was no problem to obtain a license, back date it, and have it recorded."

"Oh God. We're married."

"Not anymore but we were under the watchful eyes of the law. The digital record was removed yesterday."

"And you never told me?" She sounded indignant and was probably justified.

"No. We all agreed it was better not to." Neither Ranger or I wanted to take a chance on having her change in any way during the job. We took the coward's way out by saying nothing to her and swearing the others to silence.

"What did you think I was going to do, turn into a shrew or something?" She wasn't building up steam, good, but she wasn't happy either.

"None of us was certain, so we decided not to say anything."

"Anything else you didn't tell me?" She arched her brow.

"Let's find a bench and sit."

"Oh God, there's more. Isn't there?"

"Pretty much, yeah. But don't panic, it hasn't been filed."

She didn't say anything to me, she kept mumbling the words, "Filed? What hasn't been filed? It isn't tax time and I filed my taxes this year. Didn't I?"

We found an old wooden bench under a tree and sat. "Steph, do you remember my birthday?"

"Of course. Well up until the dinner part, then things get fuzzy. It was a nice birthday party, what I remember of it."

I worried my lip as I put my hand in the backpack I'd brought with me. I withdrew a file folder and handed several sheets of paper to her.

"What's this?"

"Your annulment from Dickie Orr. In the eyes of the Church, you were never married to him."

"That was nice but I already knew about that," she said. Her smile faded before she continued. "That's not all that's in the folder is it?"

"No. Do you remember the envelopes we each got from John when we left?"

"I opened mine, it had money in it." She banged her fist against her forehead several times and said, "I forgot to give the money to the feds."

"I took care of it for you. Do you know what was in mine?"

"More money?" she asked with hope in her voice.

"No, these."

I handed her several letters and official forms.

"I can't read them; most of them are in Spanish and I'm afraid of the ones in English," she said.

"I took them to a translation service to make sure I wasn't wrong about what I thought they said."

"Just tell me."

"Like I said, they haven't been filed. This one is letter from Father Doyle of Saint Timothy's here."

"That one is in English."

"He also had one written in Spanish. The letter gives us permission to get married in the church." I took her hand and squeezed it. "Breathe, Steph."

"I'm breathing. What's the next one?"

"It's a checklist saying we are free to marry and we've done all the church classes, etc."

"I didn't sign it."

"Neither did I. We didn't need to sign. It's something John and Maris signed, they also had two of their kids sign it. It had to be notarized by witnesses to our compatibility, etc."

"Great. Don't tell me there's more?"

"It's a testimonial from my parish priest pretty much saying we're members in good standing and that if we had been home, we could have gotten married there."

"Oh God."

"Put your head between your knees for a few minutes. It'll all be fine."

"No, it's okay. The last one. What's the last one?"

"It's a certificate saying that while we weren't civilly married in Mexico, our union was blessed and witnessed by-"

"Don't say it. I don't want to know."

"Like I said, nothing's been filed so we aren't officially married in the eyes of the church. If you ever wanted to file, it's your choice; we would be married in the eyes of God just not in the eyes of the law. I'm going to give the papers to you unless you want me to shred them."

"Don't shred them, but I don't know if I want them right now."

"Evidently that's what happened at my birthday party. Now we both know." I folded the documents and replaced them in the file.

"Oh God."

"We need to go back to that really bad day, our last day, for a minute," I said as I took her hands in mine. "I had actually made a decision. I wanted to talk to you about exclusivity when we came home, about starting something here, together."

"But you didn't."

"No. I didn't find the right time and then later when it might have been, you never gave me a chance to say a word. You shut me out. Remember when we were in the suite with Ranger and you crawled on top of me to sleep?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. "That was stupid of me, but I needed to touch you to sleep."

"I was glad you did it; I missed you. I still miss you." Every day and every night.

"I miss you, too," she said laying her head on my shoulder.

"Hey, tell me something."

She made a motion with her hand indicating that I needed to complete that thought.

"Are you upset we had a physical relationship?" I had to ask because I needed to hear the answer. She'd admitted it was more than sex for her, both of us really, but I didn't know if how it began was a sticking point that would need to be overcome.

"No."

"Does it bother you how it started?"

"No," she said, turning to face me. "I was more upset about the fact that it took you three weeks to find me in your bed."

"You sneaky thing. Why didn't you tell me or made sure I found you?" I smiled despite myself.

"Because good girls don't initiate sex. Because I didn't think you would seriously want me. Because if you found me, it was on you to make the decision to change things or not. It took the burden off of me."

"I knew you were a good girl with bad girl tendencies." I remembered the first time I'd said that out loud, she looked horrified that someone might have her all the way figured out.

"Speaking of, somehow my silk scarves didn't come home with me; I know because they were part of my carryon luggage. Know anything about that?"

I didn't say anything, just gave her a small smile and titled my head. I'd taken possession of them before we left from Mexico City; they were my own souvenir. I really didn't think she'd notice they were gone.

"I thought so. You liked it when I tied you to the bed and had my way with your body," she said.

I didn't answer her, no way I'd cop to it in daylight. I prefer to be the one in control, but she took charge more than once and it was good. There was definitely no way I'd admit I liked being blindfolded; that had been my specialty and now it was hers.

"You look like you're getting chilled. We should head back," I said, draping my arm over her shoulders. "If I had a jacket I'd offer it to you. Sorry."

The air was mostly cleared between us by the time we got home. It wasn't a cold silence this time, it felt companionable. There were still a few things hanging in the air, but not many and that was a relief.

I opened her door and helped her down from the cab.

"You still look cold. Do you want coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?" I asked her.

"Hot chocolate, I think," she said. "Do you mind if I take a quick shower to get warm?"

"You know where everything is." I hadn't moved much since she'd been gone; it was my own way of preserving her time with me.

I pulled down the old coffee mugs, turned on the electric kettle, and got out a couple of envelopes of cocoa. She'd insisted on having it around and this was the first time it was going to be used. Long after the cups were ready, she got out of the shower but never came back into the kitchen.

"Stephanie, are you all right?" I called from the kitchen. I didn't want to invade her privacy at this point. We weren't strangers by a long shot, but we weren't intimate anymore either and I didn't want to overstep things.

"In the bedroom. Still trying to get warm."

I carried the mugs and a bag of mini-marshmallows with me. She was under the covers wearing the new night shirt.

"Sit by me?" she asked holding her hands out for the hot chocolate so I could get on the bed more easily.

I toed off my shoes, but left the rest of my clothes on. I wasn't about to make any presumptions about what would or wouldn't be said at this point.

"So, now it's your turn," I said taking my mug from her hand. I still prefer Earl Grey, but once in a while a little variety is good. "Talk to me."

"Of all the guys Ranger has on his staff, you always struck me as normal and stable," she said slowly. "I mean, you don't fly off the handle or use aggression to settle things when they aren't going well."

I dipped my head to let her know I'd heard her.

"Even though I didn't know you, I always liked you. You're approachable and real. You work out to keep your skills up; you're not like Lester who does it to impress women."

What little she knew; I worked at keeping just enough smaller than the guys that I seemed normal and approachable by comparison. That wasn't a confession I needed to make, it was her own perception. After all, perception is reality to the perceiver.

"… I always trusted you whenever we worked together. Anyway, I wouldn't have done this job with anybody else. I thought you should know that." She put her mug on the nightstand nearest her. "It just looks wrong not to have a romance novel sitting here to use as a coaster."

"I read a couple of the books you left behind. Those things are just awful. The heroine is always the same, so is the leading man. Read one, you've read them all."

"No worse than the stuff you read. Secret spy stuff where the guy gets into an impossible situation and you know when the day is done he'll survive."

"How?"

"Cause you like to read things by the same author who writes series stuff. The good guy never dies in those."

"Good point."

"Are we friends again?" she asked sliding down the pillows until she was almost lying down.

"We weren't ever not friends, Steph."

"Can I tell you something?"

I nodded my head once. She still hadn't revealed much to me I didn't already know.

"I was in love with you even though I knew you didn't feel that way about me. Knowing that made me sad, but I could deal with it. The blonde really made me angry. Anger is easier than most other emotions for me. You told me emotions were off limits and I'd lost my distance in the beginning."

I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "But I did. I do. I do love you. I felt the same way for a long time." I pillowed my forehead against hers and closed my eyes. I haven't said those words in English in over a decade and the last time I wasn't sure if I meant them; this time, I did.

"When?"

"I don't know exactly. Maybe it was when I quit resisting all the space you took up in the closet and medicine cabinet. Could have been when I quit arguing with you about wearing my shirts despite all the clothes on your own side of the closet." It was long before that, but I wasn't going to admit it.

The night Zero made the recording of us was when I realized I was approaching the deep end, I'd been territorial, jealous and besotted all at once. I'd closed my eyes to all the indicators and had prayed she hadn't recognized them.

"I didn't take up that much room, did I?"

"Check for yourself." I opened my eyes and kissed her nose. "I left the closet the way it was the day you moved out."

"Oh. Never mind."

"You kept creeping up on me. It was all very insidious."

"How?"

"Like when I realized it no longer bothered me that you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle and not the end. Or when it no longer got to me that my clothes all smelled like flowers after you'd done the laundry. Like I said, it crept up on me."

"Do you know when it started to be more than just friends for me?"

I shook my head. Until now I'd had hopes but not direct confirmation and nothing specific to use as a date stamp of sorts.

"It was when you wouldn't let me go home that first night, you took away my keys. You were the only man who was honest about what he expected from me in a relationship. After things changed and we became intimate, you brought Zero to help me train – that meant a lot. You wanted me safe and you didn't want to hurt me. And it got deeper but that crept up on me, too."

"Anything else we need to talk about before I take you home?"

"There's nothing else to talk about, Manny, and I think I am home." Her words were uncertain, as though she thought the offer was now off the table. It wasn't.

"In that case, Nieves, would you breathe with me for just a little while?"

"I'd like that, but there is one more thing."

"Whatever you need. Whatever you want." I couldn't be offering anything, could I?

"I want you to tell me some of the things you would say in Spanish when we were in the throes of – you know."

I smiled. "You think it was pretty dirty, huh?" Some of it had been, but I wasn't going to elaborate on that with her.

"Please?" she whispered.

I leaned in and stroked her face. "Remember, you wanted to know." I proceeded to whisper the words making certain to kiss her in between. I said things like: mine, magnificent, pure, unique, forever, always, joy, hope, beauty, perfect, and salvation.

"Salvation?"

"Yeah, in so many ways you saved me from me. You elevated my life emotionally. Thank you," I said. "You let me remember that I could love someone body and soul and I did."

"Wow. You're right, I probably would have argued with you."

"And now?"

"Now I don't want to hear any more. I'd rather have you show me. Cariño, will you breathe with me?"

"Absolutely."

"I love nonverbal communication." Then she proceeded to show me just how much.

~x~x~

This felt good and it felt right. Between us we had peace and truth at last.

"Manny, are you awake?" She rolled onto her back and put some distance between us.

"I am now."

"Never mind," she said in a hesitant voice. She rolled back to her side and put even more distance between us.

"It's okay. What's going on?" I put my arm around her waist and dragged her back toward me.

"I want to ask you something."

"Shoot." I kissed the back of her neck. Now wasn't a time I really wanted to talk, but if she did, I would.

"Remember the paperwork you showed me today? If it was strictly up to you, what would you have done with it when you found it?"

"Filed it with the church," I said. It was probably the wrong answer, but it was the truth. I would have done my best to keep the electronic record of the marriage from being expunged, too.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. What about you?"

"Before, no."

I was disappointed in the answer, but not surprised by it. My feelings had obviously been stronger than hers, I mean there are all kinds of love. Well, I'd just have to live with it.

"Now?" I asked.

"File the paperwork, Manny. Soon."

"That's kind of unexpected coming from you."

"It is, but I've changed. I'm not afraid of forever with one person anymore, as long as it's you. Hey, I'm hungry again. What about you?" she asked.

"I could eat."

"What've you got that's easy? Got any sausage?" she asked with a wink and a smile.

"You are so bad."

"You love me anyway."

"You're right, Nieves. I do. Te amo. Te lo juro." (I'm in love with you. I swear it.)

~x~x~

Several months later …

"Pay up, guys," I said to the small group at the Side Pocket Palace. Yes, I still meet the guys at the pool hall on a semi-regular basis to blow off steam. Nothing there has changed: not the price of the beer, the uniforms of the servers, or the bets the guys make. I still run the book, just not as often. There seems to be less to bet on these days.

"It can't be true, that wasn't how things were supposed to end," Tank said. "By my calculations it should have been next month right after Easter. I was going to be a rich man. I had plans for that money. Big plans."

"Tank, you remember rule number one when it comes to women: whenever you think you actually understand a woman, you're automatically wrong. Haven't I taught you anything?" I never have and never will understand women; there is only one I understand and I don't think I'll ever have her figured out completely.

He shrugged as he opened his wallet and counted out some bills.

"It's only a C note, right?" he asked. "I can swing that easy."

I pulled a card out of my wallet to verify the results of the pool. He was in for two-hundred, not for one. He had the least amount of money on the table. Lester was in for the most, not as much as some pools, but more than anyone else.

I shook my head and pointed to a figure that he'd not only written but initialed. I do that whenever Lester is involved, it cuts down on the hassle. I still believe in keeping things clean and easy. Besides, I'm not one for arguments and back peddling, from anyone.

Eventually after much belly aching, all five of the guys paid out, except for Lester. Don't get me wrong, I still don't trust him. I never have and probably never will. I was going to have to help him cash advance his credit cards to pay down his debt, again. At least he learned his lesson and didn't owe me more than a grand this time around.

Zero said, "I still say you're whipped."

"Maybe, but it's all been worth it," I said with a smile.

"I can't believe you're gonna do it, man."

"Yeah, I know, either can I. I'll survive and that's all that matters."

I had been called on the carpet by Frank Plum for not making an honest woman of his daughter. As a result, I'd been subjected to weekly family dinners as penance. Initially my backside was bruised by Stephanie's grandmother on a regular basis. Now I keep a can of SKOAL chewing tobacco in one of my back pockets and my wallet in the other; it gives Edna less to pinch.

After a long negotiation with Frank, and later with Stephanie, I reduced my sentence to monthly dinners with the family and they were held at our home. The electronic record of our marriage was re-filed at the state using the original date and the paperwork from the marriage blessing had been filed at our parish. There was only one thing left to do, a honeymoon and a real one this time.

"So you're actually going to do this?"

I nodded. Tickets were purchased, itinerary set, bags packed and in the pack of Zero's rig for the trip to the airport.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Zero asked.

"Nah, but it's important to her and sometimes compromise is important. If you ever want a tour guide into how to survive marriage, let me know." I still don't use the 'w' word or the 'm' word if I can avoid it.

"I think I'd rather play house, more variety that way. Besides, Annie looks cute in the French maid's uniform. Want to see?" He reached into his back pocket to produce another flash drive.

"I'd be skinned alive and I kind of like my skin."

Stephanie appeared at my side. "Cariño, are you guys ready to go?"

"Nope, but we're going to do it anyway," I said. We'd be alone together for two weeks, Italy this time. She still thinks she wants to go to Texas and Chihuahua. She's never given up on the idea of Copper Canyon. I'm building my courage to face my entire family. It's been almost a decade since I've seen most of them. For now, I wanted to keep her to myself.

"It won't be that bad," she said.

I rolled my eyes at the thought of the plane flight; at least I'd have a soft pillow.

When I was in my twenties, I thought I knew what to expect from my life. I'd found happiness and contentment. In my thirties, I was convinced I'd never have true happiness or joy again; so I never planned for it or expected it. Now that I'm _older_, I realize that the unexpected things, the unplanned, are sometimes best.

I have taken a vow to no longer think I've got it all planned out. Now I've built in room to expect the unexpected.

_

* * *

A/N: Mondays won't be the same without Manny … and I'll miss him more than you know. In my wildest dreams, I never would have guessed he'd have such a fantastic response. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!!! Kisses all around! Alf._


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